


Changes

by love2imagine



Series: Out of this World [13]
Category: White Collar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love2imagine/pseuds/love2imagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You would have to be an unusual reader to enjoy this without the rest of the series, I think. People have said to change the tags so more people read because it is far from a normal space-and-slavery story, but there are aspects of that in here, so...</p><p>WC characters and milleu not mine. Belong to Someone Else...Jeff Eastin created them. Thank you, Jeff Eastin.</p><p>Original Characters mine, original story mine, mistakes - all mine!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

Neal and his Lord Steel were enjoying a quiet time, sitting together on the comfortable moss-covered earthen bench. All the spring flowers were growing in the amphitheatre-shaped garden, each step of glorious colour tumbling over onto the next.

 

It was a joint effort of the Earthlings and the younger Steel Keepers, including all the school children, Merritt, Joster, Whim, and many others, working with June. Neal and Mozzie found themselves falling in love with their beloved June more each year, learning about her more each year!

 

Mozzie had been studying the drainage systems set around the Keep when it was built. Neal came up and was reading over his shoulder, then noticed a much more recent book open next to Mozzie’s elbow. Neal had been surprised to see the original design of the gardens, planted before the Keep Wars, but neglected since that tumultuous time…even the original terraces had smoothed in most places. Neal took it to the school, and brought in a ‘youth group’ as Mozzie called them. These were the younger slaves who had a great deal of energy and many good ideas, but had less authority and therefore less work than many of their seniors, and Neal knew how it felt for his ideas to be disregarded or downplayed because of his youth (or apparent youth) and wanted them to be part of some decisions: perhaps not life-altering, but still making them part of the planning of the Keep.

 

Steel had been most supportive of this idea. Hopefully it would outlast the reign of this youngest of Lords!

 

When they told June the idea they had, to reintroduce flowers into the bowl which had been allowed to revert to the ground-covers and mosses that replaced grass here, she decided to help. They discovered a little more about her past…June’s mother and aunt had been avid gardeners, both flower and vegetable, in the days when most families had a garden to provide food, vegetables, fruits, chickens for eggs and meat, and enough in excess to bottle for the winter.

 

Of course, the flowers were not the same here, but she loved helping, and knew all the correct questions to ask.

 

Neal had been disappointed when Lord Steel told him that he had never had anyone manage to grow his special flowers nearer the Keep, though he had tried. But Mozzie had heard him telling June and wondered if it could be mycorrhizal associations. Neal looked blank.

 

“Neal, we have known about the symbiotic relationship between plants and fungi for centuries, though the more it is studied the more complex and vital it seems. It may have been necessary for plants to colonise land! How did he try, Neal, do you know?”

 

When Neal admitted that he hadn’t asked for details, Mozzie pointed out that many plants on Earth would not thrive, some would not even grow without the correct associated fungi.

 

“Yes – beans, for example!” June agreed. “Only those need a particular bacterium, don’t they Mozzie, rather than a fungus?”

 

“Beans need **Rhizobium** _leguminosarum biovar Phaseoli,”_ Mozzie explained, didactically. “Many symbiotes are species specific. And if the bacterium in this case doesn’t have the host for a few years, it will die. And the hosts don’t thrive – they need the correct symbiote to fix nitrogen. Pesticides and inorganic fertilizers can kill the microbiological symbiotes.

         “Rhizobia were the first, I believe, to be found, but there are also actinorhizal plants needing the Frankia family of the actinomycetes for nitrogen fixation… though fewer of them are food crops, from the research I found. But these fix a large proportion of naturally fixed nitrogen, so they are very important overall to soil and plant health.”

 

June just smiled at Mozzie. What is must be like to have that kind of brain?

 

“I never heard that beans needed bacteria!” Neal told them, amazed.

 

“City boy!” June teased him.

 

“Well, yes, I am, I suppose,” Neal admitted. “Even though I am a primary type of human, my hunting and gathering, my survival techniques, all involved lots of people! I can’t make fire by rubbing two sticks against each other or anything!”

 

“Rather steal some matches?” Mozzie grinned.

 

“Well, of course!” Neal nodded, thinking that was obvious! Which it was, if there were people to steal from, Mozzie considered. He had made fire with only natural things he could find, just so he knew he could, but it was very hard work! Mozzie always wanted to be able to exist without people at all, if necessary. Neal had never considered it.

 

So in a stealthy sortie into the night, Neal, Merritt and Joster went and excavated a small patch of Steel’s flowers, including a large root mass and the soil adhering to it! of course, Neal wanted it to be a surprise for his Lord.

 

“I suppose they grow so deep to protect their …storage organs, whatever these are!” Neal puffed. He had never been taken hostage by hostile criminals and forced to ‘dig his own very deep grave’, but this hole looked like it might fit the bill! _Not a bad place to be buried, under these flowers._

 

“I suppose we have to dig another hole as deep to plant them,” Joster said, and the other two chuckled. They were all sweating, even though the night was very cold. Dirt and mud covered them liberally. Joster looked up and said, “I vote we dig them in tonight! If we leave it, the job will be harder still tomorrow night or the next!”

 

“And probably easier on the plants if they go back in the ground and are watered,” Neal agreed.

 

“Surely someone else could dig the hole for them?” Merritt asked, a little wistfully. “Or at least help?

         “We have still to clean the tack! It is going to be as filthy as we are!”

 

“I would never have thought to do this myself, with a Keep full of slaves at my disposal,” joked Neal, “if a special present for my father it were not! But of course, neither of you need help. Under any sort of duress you are not.”

 

“Of course we will help you, Neal!” Merritt muttered.

 

Neal grinned to himself. But several arduous hours later, he didn’t feel so much like grinning. The three of them were so dirty and weary that though they desperately needed a bath or shower, they didn’t feel capable of having one! Even Joster’s weapon-hardened hands were cracked and blistered. They looked at each other in dismay.

 

“I do not know how we get to the showers without making the entire corridors filthy!” Neal groaned, rubbing the small of his back. “My earlier career depended less on brute strength and more on finesse! I shall this instant return to it!”

 

“I know – the dairy showers!” Merritt said.

 

Neal frowned.

 

“They have a set of showers there for times such as this – no walls, they are over pebble-stones, but it is dark, and we can get somewhat clean!” Joster explained. “What my brother fails to remember is that they are being worked on at the moment and there is no hot water to them.”

 

Neal gazed at him in horror. “I am not showering in cold water which, if we are lucky, will fall out as ice-cubes and not wet us at all!”

 

“No, the warmth from the cows keeps the water from freezing,” Merritt told him, encouragingly. “We are soldiers, after all, Neal.”

 

“As I told Leran a long time ago when we came to bring you fresh horses after you had carelessly allowed some evil Slavers to carve you like...well, like pumpkins, forget I mentioned the vegetables, it is a weird Earth custom! – I am definitely _not_ a soldier! And especially not a Brethsham soldier idiot enough to soak my aching back in freezing water!”

 

They had been walking back towards the rear entrance to the stables, and at this juncture, Litha appeared, wrapped in a robe.

 

Neal found he had more energy than a second previously. “Litha! Is all well?”

 

“Yes, I think so, my Neal – other than the fact that my betrothed and his two men seem to have been recently excavated from a shallow grave! Or graves, I suppose!”

 

Neal grinned. “I am sorry! Did my horror at the thought of a cold shower waken you?”

 

Her gurgle of laughter made the three of them smile.

 

“Enter the Keep this covered in mud we cannot, my love, and the outside showers are not ready for use and only have cold water.”

 

“And that would be far too cold for an Earthling!” she smiled.

 

“Anyone who showers in cold water on a night when the temperature is close to zero is crazy, I care not the species!” Neal told her.

 

“You would not have done that for any of your previous missions?” Litha asked.

 

Neal opened his mouth to tell her in no uncertain terms **_No_** , but the thought of the treasure, the Raphael, and about five other even more exciting and also extremely valuable heists made him pause, and the three Brethshamen laughed. He looked a little shame-faced.

 

“You are right. I will cease my grumbling, and go and shower!”

 

“No, take off your outer-clothing and your boots, dust yourselves off as best you might, and I will bring three robes for you,” Litha told him. “That will keep most of the mud off the floors of the Keep, and you may all go and get into a warm bath or shower, as you each wish. Wait here, be long I will not!”

 

“You could get Susan to - ” Neal started, but she had gone.

 

“Neal, you told us to be your friends,” Joster said, slightly questioningly.

 

“I did, Joster.”

 

“Then my advice is to marry that girl as soon as possible!”

 

“If not sooner!” Neal grinned, rubbing his back with his filthy shirt. “Though it might be nice to plan a double wedding!”

 

 

 

 

It had soon become plain that a decade-long rift between Steel Keep and all the other six Alliance Keeps was not going to happen.

 

 

 

 

Neal, Mozzie, Sally and Litha had returned to Earth as soon as the spring in the Northern Hemisphere had lessened the likelihood of storms. Mozzie had not been bored, exactly, but his ability to plan and carry out several schemes at one time often meant that he, even more than Neal, felt the need to occupy himself when others would rest. Neal had noted previously that indolence was a typical Mozzie-con, and had made him appear positively harmless to Peter, for example, who thought that he spent the majority of his time sampling wines and keeping Neal’s couch from floating away.

 

Moz could lie still, he could plan, he could just read a great deal. But every now and then he wanted some results!

 

So when the three of them took Litha back to Earth, he had secured a Whaler and three aqua-lungs from the nineteen-fifties, from which he had put together two very serviceable ones.

 

“Does that mean you’re going down with me? Litha doesn’t swim, and I can’t see you talking Sally into this idiotic adventure!” Neal asked, with some sarcasm.

 

“No, no,” Mozzie told him, impatiently. “We just need a spare. Silly to get there and, because of some equipment malfunction, have to return another day.”

 

Sally, investigating the small craft, grinned. “I can’t think why you needed to bring two suits, Mozzie. As in all things with you, I can _not_ imagine any sort of equipment failure!”

 

Neal was distracted by a lascivious grin that passed between the two which made him glance at Litha shyly, only to find her waiting for his eyes to meet hers so she could wink at him!

 

“Hopeless!” he said to her, unable to stop himself from grinning back, and asked Moz, ignoring Sally and Mozzie’s personal – very personal – interactions, “So what will you be doing?”

 

“I will be the man on the surface, directing the dive!”

 

“With what? Walkie-talkies in zip-loc bags?”

 

“No, Neal – the ear bugs don’t mind getting a little wet! In a good cause!”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So this is the best bet for finding the treasure?” Sally asked, peering overboard.

 

“The mathematical probabilities are higher further out,” Mozzie said, waving his hands and adjusting his hat… _one reason to let my hair grow!..._ ”But the probabilities of boats finding it out there would be also much higher, except for the depth of the water. No-one clings to this coastline,” he waved at the craggy cliffs, “because of the dangerous currents. They don’t run quite so close all the time, sometimes they are further out, as today, but captains veer off as a habit. There are no fishing grounds here, it’s bare rock and falls off rapidly into the abyss.”

 

“Oh – the abyss! That sounds promising! How much air do I have? Or am I to meet pretty lilac angel-aliens down there which save my life?”

 

“You have met other …oh, it is like a story?” Her face cleared.

 

“Yes, fantasy…” Neal told Litha. He wondered if all the television and sports and movies had added that much to their lives, after all. Some people were clamouring for that technology, but many seemed quite happy to do without, do more things with their families – they had missed so many years before, doing silly things and missing those family times that Brethshamen took for granted. He took another breath. “So your theory is that if it’s further out…?”

 

“If it’s in this area, and it fell further out, either someone would have noticed, or it feel off into that deep area of the sea and we’ll need a great deal more sophisticated equipment,” Mozzie nodded. “It is worth looking here first however. It may be a slim chance, but if the ship was smashed against the cliffs by the storm…”

 

“And if it wasn’t? If it just foundered?” Sally asked, sadly. “With no electronic technology…”

 

“You know, dear Sally, you have a slightly warped view of advanced integrated circuitry and newer pre-war technology,” her lover said, a little acerbically. “It can be very useful, and it can run multiple functions and scan numbers, crack passwords and so on very efficiently! But much of the basic engineering was in place and advancing electronics merely simplified – and not always that!

         “August Piccard build the Trieste, a bathyscaphe, and took it to the deepest part of the ocean known, and that was in 1960, I believe.”

 

“So if this doesn’t work we have to steal a bathyscaphe?” Neal demanded, comically, getting suited up. “Do you have any idea how heavy those things are?”

 

Mozzie was about to tell him when he saw Neal’s face and grinned. “No, no, we don’t need his exact one! I can build one! I just need some basic materials and equipment.”

 

“That you already have in a storage locker?” Neal asked. “I’m glad – the Trieste is stored in the U.S. Navy Museum in D.C., and I wouldn’t say that stealing it from there is impossible, but it’s over eighteen metres long and rather heavy! Just the sphere was over fourteen tons, was it not?”

 

Mozzie smiled his little smile. “It would be a challenge almost as magnificent as reaching the Challenger Deep in the Mariana’s Trench…”

 

“They are trying to out-know each other, Sally?” Litha asked, puzzled.

 

“Yes, they have done this all the time I’ve known them,” Sally answered. “Obscure facts, silly quotations no-one else has ever heard of…you can try to ignore them!”

 

Neal turned to her, blue eyes guilelessly wide. “It could be useful to know, someday!”

 

“What possible reason could there be to have to know the weight of – I don’t know why I bother!” Sally shrugged.

 

Neal hugged her with one arm and said, “You sound like my Lord!”

 

“I _sympathise_ with your Lord and father! Deeply!”

 

 

It took four dives before Neal broke the surface, his eyes as deep and shining as the Mediterranean. “Caves!” he gasped as he freed his mouth, and helpful hands heaved him out of the water.

 

“I told you you were about out, Neal – I’d rather not get the treasure at the risk of losing you!” Mozzie grumbled, not wanting to show how worried he had been.

 

“They aren’t really nice, limestone caves, of course, but there’s a large overhang in one place to the south of that jutting bit.” Neal pointed at the cliff. “I must go down again!”

 

“You must take a rest and help us eat the picnic June supplied,” Sally told him. “The cave or overhang or whatever is not going anywhere.”

 

“Grph,” humphed Neal, but complied. He was very hungry and he knew the food was good. He also knew that on the pretext of various studies (none that he had seen) done on the human body, Mozzie would forbid him wine till he had finished diving. Neal protested, for form’s sake, but gave in with apparently bad grace. He enjoyed wine with dinner, but for lunch on the open seas it seemed wrong.

 

Neal lay in the sun for a while after eating lightly, but soon made ready to go and see about this overhang.

 

“Isn’t it too soon to swim…cramps and so on?” Sally asked.

 

“I have never had a cramp from eating and swimming in my life,” Neal told her.

 

“And now, with the abyss yawning, this is the time to risk it?” Moz asked.

 

“Name your sources about eating and swimming!” Neal fussed. “I was told by schoolmates that if I ate raw dough – bread, cookie, whatever – that I would get worms. Likewise eating the sweet ends of grass stems pulled from their sheath – but that was more likely, they assured me, to give me instant appendicitis. Early rains brought frogs from the sky, and standing on a crack in the cement could do instant damage to the spine of a family member.

         “The stuff about swimming after eating and immediately drowning was published in Scouting for Boys in 1908, with no references to published, peer-reviewed studies. It was probably a joke! It is possible to swim with a cramp, anyway, and usually I can get rid of them – and I have never had one when swimming at all!”

 

Mozzie coughed. “I will agree that most seem like the stories parents put out to protect their cookie dough, or poor observation leading to specious conclusions. Parasites or diseases on grass are possibilities, though less so on unexposed areas. But Neal – it is possible that diverted blood flow could cause cramps, is it not?”

 

“He hasn’t challenged 400lb Lords or taken on Brethsham patriots bent on assassination, or dived into vampire flowerbeds – or BASE jumped from tall New York buildings – for a long time, Mozzie. At least five weeks! He’s bored!” Sally chuckled.

 

“I must at once hear of these stories!” Litha told them. “I know only some, and most in no detail.”

 

“All right,” Neal challenged Mozzie, “if you believe the one hour edict, what about parents in other countries that suggest their poor little tykes wait three hours? Are we going to waste the whole afternoon? What about various people’s different gut-transit times? Hmm? They say the average in the USA is seventy-two hours, don’t they? Well, my gut transit time is nothing like seventy-two hours! I - ”

 

“Okay, okay, I think this subject is not for the delicate ears of ladies!” Mozzie coughed again, making Neal laugh, considering what these two women had put up with from them! Trust Mozzie to think that bowel movements were somehow to be swept under the rug in the presence of the female sex, who for the most part would take a great interest in their baby’s stools at some point, with no problems at all! He knew that women in general would watch a dissection without flinching, yet many males would faint dead away at their first sight of blood and intestines!

 

Neal glanced at Litha and Sally, and shrugged. He had nothing against treating the ‘fairer sex’ like delicate flowers, even if they were as tough as hardened steel! They seemed to appreciate it, even if they found it mildly amusing!

 

Mozzie shrugged. “Jump in…with all this arguing, time has passed!”

 

Either enough time had passed, or Neal’s gut transit time was short enough, or the scary story was just a myth, because after what seemed just a few minutes Neal’s dark head broke the surface again, and this time he tried to talk and managed to swallow some water and started coughing!

 

“What is it?” Sally leaned over, nearly overbalancing in excitement. Mozzie grinned a little. Sally might never have sought for pirate’s gold as a girl, but she was not immune to the allure of a treasure at the end of a quest!

 

They dragged Neal into the boat again and he managed to catch his breath.

 

“It is indeed there!” Litha told them, not waiting for him to speak.

 

Mozzie’s eyes lit up and he took Neal’s arm. “Is it? I was right?”

 

“I am glad you still need to hear that, oh, genius!” Neal told him, a little hoarsely. “Two crates are still intact, but there are some coins and small ingots all over the floor of the area…I would guess perhaps another crate or two? How many were there supposed to be?”

 

“There are no accurate records, or should I say there are too many records and myths. Perhaps fifteen,” said Mozzie, a little downcast.

 

“The rest may be at the bottom of this drop-off…is it worth going after them?” Sally asked.

 

“Probably not,” Neal said, determinedly. “For one thing, we’ll need a far larger support vessel, and if we mess about here for any length of time, someone may notice us. As it is we are going to be here a while, collecting the treasure.”

 

“I had a winch installed,” Mozzie pointed out. “All you have to do is collect the gold into these bags, and attach them to the line and I’ll winch up one while you collect the next.”

 

Neal considered it would be quicker with two, but he was not sure if Mozzie even could swim! So he gathered the nylon mesh bags that Mozzie had carefully placed, each one in another, doubled for safety, and plopped off the boat and swam down to the cave. It was a lot of work, fanning off the dust and collecting all the valuables, but somehow collecting gold has a different appeal from anything else! Though of course Neal knew it did not tarnish, the glowing brightness pleased him. He kept an eye on the time and affixed the bag to the hook on the line and gave it a tug, and watched it…and started up, seeing the boat above him, dark against the back-lit surface of the sea…and next to it, a truly enormous shark. Neal was so surprised – he had hardly seen any marine life! – that he stopped. Then he realised that there was someone in the water, by the boat. And he knew it was Litha.

 

Without any plan, he struck out powerfully towards her, pulling his requisite safety knife from it’s sheath, knowing that a shark that size…and it wasn’t a basking shark, it had the distinctive outline of a hammerhead, though bigger than any Neal had read about, if he was estimating its length correctly. Part of his brain told him he _was_ probably overestimating it, considering it was threatening his girl! He was gasping, this outfit didn’t lend itself to sprinting, but as he neared the two, fearing at any moment to see the water thresh and turn red, the shark sank gently, seemed to look straight at him, turned lazily and moved off with a sudden burst of speed. He broke the surface and gasped, “Get out! Get Out! Mozzie! Help!”

 

Sally appeared, startled. “What, Neal?”

 

Litha was staring at him with the same mystified expression.

 

“Get Litha out! Get her out!” Neal was trying his best to bodily lift her out of the water, which wasn’t working very well. Sally leaned over and hauled Litha in, and Neal clambered after her, standing and scanning the waters.

 

“What, Neal!” Sally demanded.

 

“A huge hammerhead,” Neal told her without taking his eyes off the sea.

 

“What!” Sally said as Mozzie returned from New York with a full picnic hamper. He immediately picked up the atmosphere and asked, “What happened? Neal finally get that cramp?”

 

“There was a hammerhead, exceptionally large! Litha! It seemed to be right next to you!” He took her wet arm.

 

“But yes, my Neal. It was a big water-animal. It was interested in me.”

 

“A hammerhead shark – are you sure?” Mozzie’s natural suspicion of the ability of other humans, even Neal, to be accurate in emotionally charged situations…

 

“Does anything else on earth look like a hammerhead shark, Mozzie!” Neal said, angry after his fright. “Except another hammerhead shark?”

 

“You are afraid and angry…?” Litha queried.

 

“That thing could have killed you – they have been known to attack humans, and that was a really big one!” Neal told her.

 

She smiled a little. “You are scolding me because you are scared. But that works not because I have done nothing wrong, and you scare me not at all.”

 

Neal took a deep breath. What she said was perfectly true. Especially as she was here – all of her! – not a scratch! “Why did you get out of the boat?”

 

“It is hot for me, here. You know that this is true. So I slipped into the water, my Neal.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then I felt something in the water - ”

 

“It touched you?” Neal’s voice rose uncomfortably, and Litha cocked her head a little.

 

“Yes, in my heart.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“It knew not what I was, so it came up to me and we …interacted.”

 

“That’s what comes of marrying aliens, Neal!” Mozzie grinned.

 

“I haven’t married her yet!” Neal groaned. He turned to Litha. “Could you perhaps be a little cautious about all large animals with very large teeth, please?”

 

“And anacondas,” Mozzie added, helpfully. “And black widow spiders. And rhinoceroses!”

 

“I am to avoid these things so you do not become overly concerned?” Litha asked, puzzled.

 

“They may be hungry, Litha, and see you as food!”

 

“A little small thing with many legs?”

 

Now Neal was puzzled.

 

“She means the black widow spider, Neal,” Sally told him, trying not to laugh.

 

“Oh, yes – well, those don’t often bite, and only if you frighten them, and most people don’t even see them…” Neal was wondering if it was worth trying to explain.

 

“I will try very hard not to scare little spi-ders and large animals with horns on their noses,” Litha nodded, confidently. “That I feel I can undertake to do.”

 

Feeling that this was the best outcome he could expect without spending hours explaining, Neal nodded and said, “Good!”

 

“This hammer-head was not scared,” Litha assured him, “merely curious.”

 

Sally snorted with delight.

 

Mozzie ignored the girls and asked, “How are we doing?”

 

“There’s still a few things on the ‘floor’ of the chamber, and then there’s the chests.”

 

“Have you looked at the chests? Inside, I mean?”

 

“Oh, yes – they’re almost full of the small ingots.”

 

“Neal, I know this isn’t all of it, but do you realise…”

 

“C’mon Moz, it’s never about the money! This is _pirate gold!”_

 

“And a dream realised! And I think from the records that the pirates didn’t get this Spanish treasure-ship – the storm did, poor girl.”

 

“Where are you stashing it?”

 

“Where we agreed – in June’s basement. Concrete floor, earth beneath, not going anywhere – and it’s one of the most secure buildings on the planet without nuclear warheads!”

 

Neal took another deep breath, and started to change out the tanks. “Litha, darling Litha, the warmth of the day is fading. Do you think you could remain inside the boat? Or Moz could jump you back to a nice, cool snowdrift at Steel?”

 

“Silly!” she said, being one of the two people Neal knew who could keep track, at a slightly more basic level than Mozzie but better than Neal himself could do without some thought, of the times and seasons of two planets simultaneously. “It is spring there, too, and the drifts are almost all gone!”

 

“Please?”

 

“I will stay within the small confines of this boat. I find this process somewhat tedious, my Neal.”

 

“You don’t like gold?” Sally asked. Neal sometimes thought that Sally would put up with Litha for her entertainment value alone, though obviously the two liked each other a great deal.

 

“I like gold and silver and my pretty love-collar,” she smiled at Neal, who was wearing his, also, shining against his skin. “But we have plenty at Laffaysham. I can get you some if you like.”

 

“No, no – I feel that from the outset Lord Laffay would dislike that plan amazingly, Litha!” Neal laughed.

 

“And secondly, it’s all about the finding and retrieving, solving the mystery!” Mozzie told her. “But petting sharks is probably a pastime for another day, when Neal can take you to Cape Town and do the thing properly with the biggest predatory sharks, when I’m not there! I am not very keen on deep dark waters, and when huge muscular toothed predators come flying out of those dark waters at wandering prey – and my shape isn’t _that_ unlike a seal – I am more pleased to be elsewhere!”

 

“They have cages, Mozzie!” Neal told him, preparing to leave the boat.

 

“I would have thought you had experienced being caged enough for one life, Neal! Now hurry, or we won’t finish tonight!”

 

It was full dark when they returned the whaler to the nearest local village. Then they all moved off into the darkness and Mozzie jumped them to June’s. Neal ran up the stairs to fetch her, and she came down and they stood in a crescent and stared at the gleaming pile.

 

“I do find it so invigorating to be around people like you, Neal and Mozzie!” June said, after a few long moments. “Who else comes home to find that their sons have filled their basement with gold? Isn’t it pretty?”

 

“It is, June!” Neal smiled as he hugged her. “Spanish Gold! – well, probably Incan Gold, or Aztec gold, but the Spanish moved it here for us. You and Mozzie can work out the origins if you like!”

 

“Hmmm…may be able to do a detailed analysis. Perhaps set up something good with it in the country of origin…” Mozzie mused. “Interesting. You’d think those countries would have taken the case to the Haig or something…let’s look into that, Neal.”

 

“What are you going to do with it?” June asked.

 

“Some will go into our father’s chest at Steel, he acts as our banker on Brethsham! Then some will go into the project we have started, to build villages or homes for orphans, including some for women who would abandon their babies because of lack of funds. Some will go to you, dear June, for upkeep and as a thanks for all you did and are doing for us…but that’s just an excuse. It’s just because we love you!”

 

“But I have plenty, Neal!”

 

“Good! And it is going to stay that way!” Mozzie told her. You took us in when we had very little – Neal had nothing to offer except his smile - ”

 

“But what a smile, Mozzie! It lit up my life when it was dark and dreary! That’s priceless!” June grinned her small grin. “And then you – you never offered me money, but you were also a very good friend, especially as Neal was involved with the FBI for such long hours!

         “And I always had a feeling that if I needed anything, I could come to you – and I did, when my grand-daughter was bumped from the list, that time.”

 

“So we’ll give to you – and Lord Steel – because you’re family!” Neal smiled.

 

“You are, June,” Sally said, softly. “I was also very lonely, and you’ve been there for me, too, and I would have come to you before, if I had known you.”

 

“And you and I still have to really spend much time together,” June said, reaching out her hand to Litha, “but you love Neal and he loves you, so I know you are a splendid person, Litha.”

 

Litha smiled back. “Of course, I know you, June. And Neal is right in all he says about you.”

 

June’s eyebrows rose, and Neal winced dramatically. “Ouch! I’m sorry, June – I told her not to read _Mozzie_ , I didn’t say anything about you!”

 

“It seems a little late to worry, dear, and I have few secrets from the two of you, so if your women get to know me, too, I have no problem with that. It’s just those people Out There!”

 

“LEO’s, government and lawyers and such?” Mozzie chuckled.

 

“Let’s just say I value my privacy, dear, but not from family. You two have been closer than anyone else in my life other than Byron and my parents when I was a child, of course. We trust each other and rely on each other. Litha has learnt of me, but that has merely speeded the process.”

 

“You are happy that Neal and I marry,” Litha said, “and that is exceedingly important to me. Of all the people I have heard within his heart, only you would be able to stop our union with a word.”

 

“I couldn’t stop him marrying anyone he chose, Litha, dear, but I feel confident he has made a perfect choice!”

 

“With deep respect, Lady June,” Litha told her, “you are wrong. Neal would argue with his Moz-zie, or even Uncle Caerrovon, but he would listen to you, however sad he might feel – he trusts you and would never risk your friendship.”

 

“Then it is lucky that we have never disagreed!” June told her, merrily, drawing her close.

 

“We wish to be married in the Brethsham spring, when it is a bit warmer,” Neal said, his eyes meeting Litha’s. “And we would like you to stand with me, June?”

 

“I would be most honoured, Neal. Of course!”

 

 

 

Lord Steel felt he should seldom be surprised by anything his sons did, after their time together, but he was a little startled when Mozzie and Neal appeared in his study with a heavy wrought-iron dolly with a cloth embroidered in Steel Keep colours covering the pile it held. Their demeanour was without their celebrated artifice and stratagems, they were smiling, perhaps a little shyly, a little mischievously.

 

“What are you bringing me, Neal and Mozzie?” Steel asked, not without some apprehension: just because they were pleased about this gift did not mean he would be, after all! He could empathise with them more than the average Brethshaman – or Earthling - but they still thought very differently from many humans. This could be almost anything!

 

Mozzie stood back and Neal whisked the cloth free with totally unnecessary panache; the glowing hoard revealed was stunning enough without fanfare!

 

“Mozzie! Neal! What is this?”

 

“Gold, my Lord!” Neal grinned.

 

“Yes, but where did this come from?”

 

“Originally, in all likelihood, from a place on our planet called, in general terms, South America, Caerrovon,” Mozzie started, glad of the opportunity. “The nation of Spain was very good at exploring, and plundering, but also - ”

 

“Mozzie! This sounds like a history!”

 

“Oh, it is – many centuries have passed, it was a time of the shifting of vast power from the Spanish first to the French for a time, then the Dutch and then the English…people have postulated that - ”

 

“Mozzie, another time, and with visual aids, if it is important for me to know!” Steel interrupted, picking up a heavy little ingot. “This is very pure!”

 

His sons nodded, pleased, though Mozzie was a little disappointed not to be allowed to pontificate. It pleased him that the French had been stymied by the Spanish in their quest to steal all the Spanish wealth, but that one single civilian French sailor had pointed to a ship’s treasure lost…though there would be much more lying at the bottom of the precipitous fall-off… Part of Mozzie’s always active brain started working quietly on solutions to that…

 

“Do you think it is right to bring Earth gold here?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Neal said, simply. “I believe if the Earthlings all knew about your exploits on their families’ behalf, they would gladly pay whatever was necessary for their return.”

 

“I believe the Slavers’ gold and silver paid for much of that!” Steel frowned a little.

 

“That,” Mozzie said, calmly, “depends on the market value of the slaves. And some of _that_ went to Earth!”

 

“That is true…” Steel hesitated and was lost.

 

“We found it, besides those points, and it would have only been recovered by the sheerest chance had your son not been clever and sneaky,” Neal told his father. “And we shall take it when we need it and continue to build the homes that are truly homes with a family for orphans, which are in great need on Earth. We also gave some to June.”

 

“You should give some to Peter, also,” Lord Steel said, with some concern. “You were stolen with him, and I bought both of you – but you were his slave before mine, and he was never reimbursed. I see how valuable you are…”

 

Mozzie gave a delighted snort of laughter. Neal smiled and shook his head. “I was actually a ward of the federal government, and Peter was merely my handler, my Lord.”

 

“It felt to me as though – but if you are sure…”

 

“Come on, Neal, let us do this for our Lord!” Mozzie pleaded. “Caerrovon is quite right – he often treated you like a slave! Far worse than any treatment we have observed here!”

 

“He would be offended, I believe!” Neal told his friend repressively, which made Moz’s grin widen. Neal nodded, “Which is what you want! Well, no. He also treated me well…”

 

“…on occasion.” Mozzie finished. “Just a joke, Neal!”

 

Neal made a face. “Amusing at the time it was not.”

 

“Nothing says amusing it cannot be _now_ …” But Mozzie shrugged and obligingly changed the subject. Mozzie had seldom suffered emotionally since leaving the orphanage, he had dealt with his demons and, until Neal had been taken prisoner by the government, had been quite content. He had always been amazed at how calm Neal was with his situation with the FBI, other than aspects of losing Kate, only realising later how much of _that_ had been an elegant con that Neal had lived, become, as all great con-artists can.

         “Caerrovon, we would like to keep this with you, you can have the use of it, or we will,” Mozzie went on. “You may need extra money to deal with the other Keeps, or even buy goods from further afield because of our meddling.

         “We were your ...well, Neal was your slave, I was a guest, now we are sons. To help provide for the Keep is surely part of our duties?”

 

Caerrovon acquiesced, amused. When he thought back at the first time he’d seen Neal: dirty, scarred and angry, when he’d first seen the painfully thin and bleeding Mozzie, could he have ever foreseen that they would become – indeed, take as a right and duty – such a place of importance? He shrugged. “Can we move it to my suite?”

 

“We can!” Neal grinned. “Shall we do it now?”

 

“Yes – leave it in the side room next to the closet? And then return, please. I have need of speech with the two of you.”

 

They returned within minutes, and seated themselves and all waited, for Steel had called for wine and tea. When they were settled, Steel said, “We may have to rethink all this jumping. Or it will not remain a secret for long!

         “I have received word that a retinue from Trent Keep is coming to visit. Had they been with me when you arrived…”

 

“Mmm. Awkward,” Mozzie agreed. “We shall from this time forward go to our own suite – no, that might also cause questions to be asked…”

 

“Can we jump to the foaling stable, my Lord?” asked Neal. “Since you have moved that part of the operation to Sea Keep, it is used very rarely. If you could have someone place something – a red cloth – in that stall, then we would fetch horses and pretend to ‘arrive’.”

 

“And if it were more complicated than that, you could leave us a note there, Caerrovon,” Mozzie nodded.

 

“What if someone found it?” Neal queried.

 

“We can keep the whole foaling stable locked,” Caerrovon nodded. “It is used for storage only, now, except for one large stall, so it will be no hardship. I assume that having only one key, and that in my possession will be of no trouble to the two of you?”

 

“I thought we would have to devise a code!” Neal told him, and Steel shook his head at the sparkle in his son’s eyes.

 

“Not just yet. Not that it might not be a good idea for the…authorities of Steel Keep – you mind not being called authorities, my sons? – to share a secret code!”

 

Apparently the delight of a special code with him overweighed the thought of any sort of responsibility that being in a position of authority might entail, and he laughed.

 

 

Steel Keep was very busy these days. They had shifted work away from industries that were commercial as opposed to subsistence, and since they had heard from Trent, the Keep itself had been in a lather of activity. Lucilla decided that the Trent hangings and other furnishings, though kept in good condition, needed updating. They needed silver thread, and the textile factories made great lengths of black velvet from a special caterpillar and spider, mixing the silks together. The caterpillar spread its web over the fields in spring and could be a nuisance if unchecked, but since it was found that this mixture worked well, the villagers, tenants and slaves alike delighted in carding it up, receiving a special bonus for well-gathered silk. The spiders were attracted to the gathering of caterpillars, and their webbing was harder to collect in great quantities, but only a fifth as much was needed. It was pleasant work being together in the warming sunshine, and not strenuous.

 

Mozzie was very interested in the machines used, while Neal enjoyed joining in and talking to all the members of Steel Keep, from aged tenants that knew Caerrovon’s grandfather to small children falling over their feet and squealing at the soft feel of the caterpillars. The caterpillars didn’t turn into pretty butterflies that year, but cocooned deep in the soil, and only emerged the next year to breed.

 

“They are very pretty, blue and purple,” the one textile worker told him. “They appear in a huge flight. It is lovely.”

 

“Have you seen the velvet they make, June?” Neal asked, popping back to see his friend.

 

“I do not think I have.”

 

“The pile is much thicker than any I have seen, and they hang it as curtains and even wall-hangings to keep out the cold, especially for Goren and Trent, which are naturally warmer, being further north.

         “What are you doing, darling?”

 

“Knitting booties and hats and things for your orphanages. I think I should start a knitting bee, get a whole bunch of ladies and, if necessary, teach them to crochet and knit and provide the materials. What do you think?”

 

“Only if you teach me, too – I don’t know how, and it’s always seemed like magic, the lace and Aran cables and shaping that can be achieved with one hooked stick – or two straight ones – and a piece of yarn. If I could jump in time as well as space, I would go back and find out who thought of it in the first place!”

 

“They probably used their fingers at first, would you think? Then made extensions?”

 

Neal peered at her lemon-yellow booties. She already had the cute little hat and coat to go with them, and had pale green ribbon to thread through the slots she had built into the design. “Pretty! How tiny newborns are! It’s hard to believe Theo was just a little bigger than the baby this hat will fit!

         “Where is your pattern?”

 

“When Mozzie said he had to source such things, I got out an old set of baby-patterns – infants to about three years old, and started on the newborns. I’ve made ten sets in different colours, so I know it by heart now.”

 

Neal looked at her with admiration, and she glanced up from her work, saw it and demanded, “What! You, Neal Caffrey Ellington-Steel, could paint Storm on the Sea of Galilee from memory – and probably have, and in the dark! – and I can’t memorise a pattern made up of mainly plain and purl stitches?”

 

Neal ducked his head in the way she loved, a little bashful, a little shy, and laughed. “I don’t think in the dark, unless we marked the paint tubes with names in Braille!”

 

“And you and Mozzie need to paint lots of alphabets and numbers and pretty pictures of Gospel stories and the nicer nursery rhymes for the walls.”

 

“When we have pushed our Lord and father into marriage, or driven this woman away if she is not suitable, we will!” Neal laughed.

 

 

 

 

Soon the Trent Suite was ready, though Ophera and Lucilla and their teams fussed and fidgeted about getting it right.

 

“We have never actually hosted another Keep since I took the knot,” Steel told Mozzie, a little apologetically. “Lucilla and her team is luckily enlarged with new talent, as she is working on Goren and Laffay as well, just in case.”

 

“Leaving Betchem out of our plans?” Mozzie asked, a little snappily.

 

Steel smiled at him. “Do not fuss, Mozzie. We have enough friends – and enough to do without worrying about a visit from Betchem just at present.”

 

“Neal is organising a present from you to Trent, so do not worry about that,” Mozzie told him.

 

Steel groaned. “How is it that you are both from poor backgrounds and you remember niceties that I, born as heir to a Keep, forget? Reminded me Brak has not, and there is little time.”

 

“Remembering details is vital for a con, getting everything just right - and we left our poor origins, Caerrovon, and mingled with the old monied families on Earth.”

 

“Leaving some of them less-monied.”

 

“Only the mean and nasty ones, Caerrovon! Most of them were too nice to be victims. Some of the nuevo-riche, however – the people who had new money and no manners or values, now those people…”

 

“I know you are a little unhappy with Betchem, Mozzie,” Lord Steel begged, “and he is very, very rich…please do not relieve him of any of his wealth?”

 

Mozzie did not promise. Let Caerrovon think that he had!

 

 

Lucilla also insisted that everyone appear and be inspected in the clothing they intended to wear for Trent’s arrival, and though most of the adults passed her inspection, many of the youngsters that Neal and Mozzie might have thought of as teenagers, and some of the children either had no clothes really smart enough, or were beginning to out-grow their good clothes.

 

“She is just loving this!” Neal told Steel, when he voiced his concern about all the work Lucilla was taking on. “And it is good practice for some of her apprentices.

         “She has also decided that we will have new embroidered linens for the formal table, by the way.”

 

“Oh!” Steel said, a little faintly.

 

“Worry not, my Lord! There are three whole days before Trent is supposed to arrive!”

 

The days passed in cleaning the Keep from dungeons to bell-tower, though it hardly needed it. Neal removed himself from the activity and repainted the bedroom in his suite, keeping the egg-shell-textured lavender, but getting rid of the white and the purple accents and adding high-gloss grey of a slightly deeper tone of the same hue as the stone of the walls and floor, and rugs in deeper greys and lavenders.

 

 

 

The Tassin from Trent kindly informed Tamlin of their imminent arrival and all the main household gathered, like in an old manor house in England, for their arrival. Neal jumped into Steel’s study with a large parcel.

 

“What is this, Neal?”

 

“I told Mozzie to tell you!” Neal exclaimed, a little aggrieved. “I did not want you to go to any bother…it is a gift for the Trents!”

 

“Oh, yes – he did! Sorry, son, I forgot!”

 

“Your father’s formal manners did not rub off on you very much, did they, my Lord!”

 

Caerrovon shook his head contritely, and Neal laughed. “This is the Trents! They seemed very easy-going and friendly, my Lord, when we visited.”

 

“So what am I giving them?” Steel asked, feeling more at ease.

 

Neal opened the box and unwrapped the sculpture he’d designed. Steel blinked. It was an arrangement of roses made out of some silver-coloured metal, every blossom perfect, the soft texture of the petals, shiny drops of dew here and there …and around the vase, diagonally, wrapped the seven silver lines, that looked like a music stave to Neal, with four of their five mice playing on them, the last being on the foot of the vase.

 

“Neal! How did you…?”

 

“Oh, the clever Sunder craftsmen did it for me…well, made the thing. It is steel, my Lord, as is fitting, and I had it Rhodium plated, like Litha’s and my collars, to give that lovely very white-clean look. It is hard and will not tarnish. It is more expensive than gold. Well, on Earth, more than five times as expensive and difficult to work, very hard.”

 

“So you have visited Sunder?”

 

“I have. And yes, you said not to jump to another Keep – but made it in time I would not have, had I not. So I got Lira to take me.”

 

“Neal! You know I meant you to stay here! Or go to Earth.”

 

“Yes…and I suppose I could have got Lira to take me to Earth and then Sunder…” Neal’s brow furrowed a little and Steel wanted to scowl and grin all at once – something Neal made him feel more often than necessary.

 

“The idea, Neal, was that - !” he started, but Tamlin put her head into the door and said, “The Trent entourage are approaching, my Lord!”

 

“We will talk of this later!” Steel said, trying to look annoyed, but since he was looking at his youngest son over the very beautiful and extravagant vase-ornament made for him to present to the Keep first visiting after a generations-long estrangement, healed by this very son, he felt his position was less than defensible, and Neal’s large blue eyes held their usual magic and he felt it best to retreat from a position he would certainly lose in any skirmish.

 

“Of course, my Lord!” Neal answered, amicably, and re-wrapped the present in its black paper and tied a huge black-and silver bow with many trailing curls around it. Steel smiled involuntarily. It was so beautifully done. “We will leave this here until later, I think.”

 

“June is going to stand at your side,” Neal striding next to him, “as our mother. That leaves Ophera and Brak to stand together, which they told me they would much prefer.”

 

“I would rather not have put Lady June to any trouble,” Steel said as they walked towards the great front doors and Brak, Ophera, Mozzie, Litha and Sally joined them.

 

“There is an obvious answer to that,” June said, standing at the door, “though I do not mind, Lord Steel. Find yourself a Mistress of Steel Keep!”

 

The whole family group chuckled, and they walked out and down the steps, flanked by Joster, Merritt, Leran, Lark, and many other warriors in full livery. In a line stood all the house-servants and Brak and Ophera went to stand at the head of the line.

 

Steel suddenly felt horribly shy! He was used to only his friends making very casual and extremely infrequent visits. Mozzie, standing right next to him, said, “Worry not. If you forget something, think at Tamlin, she will think at me and Neal and we will tell her and she will tell you.”

 

“But send thoughts you can not,” Steel said out of the corner of his mouth as the outriders rode past, dipping their pennants in respect to the Steel Keep pennants flying higher than the Trent pennants from decorative cast-iron poles.

 

“Not normally, but Tammy and Diana have shown us how, at least for limited amounts of information. Look not surprised, Caerrovon, you have been able to call us from Earth – or anywhere – since we became your sons!”

 

The large and beautiful black and silver coach drawn by six onyx-black horses, freshly groomed of road-dust, with a great deal of silver on their leatherwork halted neatly in front of the steps and the footmen jumped down and opened the door. Lord Trent, also in full black-and-silver, stepped out, glanced acknowledgement at Steel and turned back to take his wife’s hand and hand her out, and then his sister, Shalla, followed by an older woman.

 

Neal took a careful look at Shalla. He had seen her at Betchem, but that was before he knew she might be part of his family! She had hair less curly than her brother’s, and of a lighter fawn. Her eyes were as green as his, much darker than Litha’s: emeralds rather than peridots! Her skin was soft and flawless, and her figure as neat and slender as most young women on Brethsham. He noticed that her eyes sought Lord Steel’s, but that nobleman was concentrating, as was correct, on the Lord and Lady.

 

Lord Steel took June’s hand and they walked down the last few steps to stand on a level with Lord and Lady Trent. The family all carefully stepped after him, keeping their positions relative to his.

 

Lord Trent glanced around at all the liveried servants and warriors, at himself and his wife, and at Lord Steel. His solemn expression broke into a mischievous grin. “We all actually did this!” he waved his hand to embrace the pomp and circumstance, and everyone laughed.

 

“Welcome, welcome, Lord and Lady Trent and Mistress Shalla of Trent!” Caerrovon said, smiling broadly. “I hope you are not exhausted after the long trip?”

 

“Your son, Neal, told us we needed better riding horses, Caerrovon!” Lord Trent said, “ - and I agree. Ours are very adequate for short rides around our Keep. And please, call me Torolesto, and of course, you remember my wife, Arastella.”

 

Arastella gave Caerrovon her hand and he kissed it, and she said, “Yes, Caerrovon, my great-grandfather was pure Laffaysham, so we are distant kin!”

 

“This is my sons’ mother, Lady June Ellington,” Caerrovon introduced June…and the introductions continued, but the Trents were very keen on dispensing with too rigid protocol, and soon the whole group moved into the Greatroom, all prettily decked with Steel colours. Litha and Shalla were together, talking, and then Litha brought her over and Neal bowed over her hand.

 

“I asked your pretty Lady Litha to bring me over, Neal, son of Steel, because you and your brother, who is at present talking to my niece, were responsible for bringing Trent Keep back into the fold. I wished to express my gratitude.”

 

“I am afraid I angered some Lord of a powerful Keep, but it is very good that you and your family are pleased, Lady Shalla.”

 

“Oh, pooh – Betchem! He should have reined in his emotions and used his famed acumen and bowed to the inevitable, Neal – but perhaps repeat not my words!”

 

“They shall be sealed in my heart, Lady Shalla!” Neal grinned, and she moved away.

 

“ _And?”_ he hissed at Litha.

 

“Like a clear mountain stream,” she murmured back. “I find her likeable, Neal.”

 

“That is good. Now to see if our father likes her!

         “And, though it sounds illogical and foolish, I wish you had been with me when I met some of my female friends!”

 

“Why is that thought in any way illogical?” She was watching Lord Steel introduce Mozzie to the Trents, knowing that he would call on Neal next.

 

“Because if you were there whether they were good or bad, ugly or beautiful, trustworthy or not would have mattered not, dearest.”

 

She turned to him, brow slightly furrowed, “But – oh.” She saw the warmth and humour in his eyes as they rested on her and coloured a little.

 

He smiled, pulled her a little closer and said, “Silly and much beloved!”

 

Then Lord Steel called him over and he went and did the niceties with usual aplomb.

 

 

 

The Trents were taken to their suite, and they seemed a little overwhelmed by the work that had gone into it.

 

“But this is beautiful, Caerrovon!”

 

“It is your due, Torolesto, Arastella! We had furnishings from olden days, but my wardrober felt we should redo everything, and I think she has done it well!”

 

“Oh, the beds are covered in a shiny silver coverlets with black embroidered cushions!” Arastella called, having taken her maid through with their things. She bounced back, and Steel grinned. He was so used to much more sedate Lords and Ladies...!

 

Arastella glanced up at him, he felt her read him a little and she grinned back. “You think you have been hard-done by, oh, Lord of Steel, with Betchem and Camber and Laffay! The Gorens delight in being staid and slow and jumping not to conclusions and keeping to traditions…!”

 

“They have been good friends and counsellors, darling!”

 

“Indeed! But I am ready to make some new friends – friends that dance and play and do things other than work!”

 

Brak came in with Neal’s parcel, and Steel said, “This is a small token of our appreciation. Lord Betchem, in his anger, might have convinced you and the other Lord Keepers to stay away, and we are so glad to welcome you here.”

 

“Oh! What a pretty parcel! May I open it?” Arastella exclaimed, and Neal felt happy as she pulled the ribbons and opened the box. She glanced round. “It is not alive?” On being assured that it was not, she said, “The Gorens once gave me a male chicken of very good breeding. That must have meant the genes, as it had the poor manners to bite me!”

 

She carefully folded back the tissue paper and gasped, “Oh!” again, breathily this time. Her Lord went to help her and reached in and took out the elegant ornament. The Steel Keepers noticed that they did not have their slaves and personal servants do all this, and felt even more as though they all could be friends.

 

“But – Caerrovon! This is exquisite!” Torolesto said. “We cannot accept this!”

 

“My son Neal had the designing of it and oversaw the manufacturing. And Torolesto, I fail to see what use we would have for a statue with Trent symbols all over it!

         “Neal can tell you all about the flowers and the metal and so forth in detail, should you care!”

 

“And you may certainly leave it here in your suite if you wish, Lord and Lady Trent!” Mozzie nodded.

 

The Lord and Lady both took Caerrovon’s hand in thanks – and Lady Shalla of Trent kissed Lord Steel decorously on the cheek and then the Steel Keepers withdrew so that the visiting party could wash and rest.

         “If you do not feel like dressing up in formal wear, do not!” Lord Steel told them as he left. “I would prefer my guests to be comfortable!”

 

So it was that the group that met round the large table was dressed much more simply, though still well, of course! The Trents wore lighter shades on average than did the Steel Keepers, and their clothing was different, lacings being used heavily to create shaping of the garments. Very soon the conversation became widespread and noisy, all normal protocol went by-the-board as the Steel Keepers realised that this was what the Trents wanted!

 

“This is just like home!” Shalla said to June, and then, seeing that Lord Steel had turned, hearing her, she coloured prettily. “I mean – I mean we do not stand on ceremony with our kith and kin and servants at Trent, either, unless the Gorens are there!”

 

“Oh, of course, my dear. It must have been difficult! I spoke to the Gorenmen, and they did seem a little …set in their ways? And I have many seasons on you and your brother, you would think I would appreciate that! But I have these two dear sons, and they have kept me very young.”

 

“It is going to be such fun, finding out how everything works here. You know, Lady June of Steel – I think we were all getting bored with ourselves and the Gorenmen!”

 

“June, dear – call me June!”

 

“Shalla, then!” She squeezed June’s hand.

 

The Trents had brought their daughter, just shy of puberty, a pretty thing with her hair in braids. Mozzie found her very sweet. Arallesta was never going to be the beauty her mother was, nor her aunt, but she was bright and aware, and he judged that she would make a very good friend.

 

That afternoon they took the Trents on a tour and introduced them to all the slaves in charge of various aspects of the Keep. Apparently all the Lord Keepers kept their own suites private, but Caerrovon showed off Neal and Mozzie’s suite, and the Trents were delighted with the use of colour.

 

“It would work just as well back home,” Arastella said, smiling. “We do not have tree houses, like Betchem Keep – Gorenmen are master stonemasons, of course! We are working on plaster for some of the inner walls, so they will be even smoother than your lovely stone here.

         “How much fun it will be to paint that!”

 

“Trent Keep is cleverly built below ground in places, or partially so, my Lord,” Neal told him. “So it is cooler in their warmer summers.”

 

“Yes, our ground is very well drained, so it is no trouble at all,” Torolesto remarked.

 

Lord Steel found himself showing off Neal’s additions to the gallery, also.

 

“You bought this young man as a slave, Caerrovon?” Arastella asked. “Did you know of his talent?”

 

“All I knew was that he was 'bad',” Lord Steel chuckled. “So he told me. His language skills at that time were practically non-existent!”

 

“These,” Torolesto said, “are not _bad!_ These are brilliantly executed, I think.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Trent,” Neal dipped his head in acknowledgement, but Arastella grinned at him, seeing that he was not shy about his work. He was quite well aware, now, of his ability.

 

 

When they reached the stables, the Trents became very animated, chatting with Caerrovon and Klenalth about this horse and that.

 

“They are so much bigger than ours!” Arallesta exclaimed, as a huge stallion leaned over to find out who this new visitor was, and she petted him.

 

“Be careful, Lesta!” her father cautioned.

 

“Never fear, these are trained and gentled,” Caerrovon assured them. “Unless they are in battle.”

 

“I would certainly like to speak to you at some time about purchasing at least a few of your lovely steeds,” Torolesto told him.

 

“Can I choose, Daddy?” Arallesta asked. “They are all so beautiful, but I would like one I chose!”

 

“You will need to ask Lord Steel, daughter!”

 

She turned her hazel eyes on Lord Steel and he laughed. “Of course. I will pick some pretty mares with nice smooth gaits, shall I?”

 

“But that can jump and _too_ tame are not, Uncle Steel!”

 

“Well, you now become her favourite Lord Keeper!” Torolesto told him, and his daughter laughed.

 

“Other than my favourite father, Daddy!”

 

 

 

They ate around the large dining table again, this time a little more formally, but Caerrovon found it very pleasant to find these people so easy to befriend: soon he was calling Lord Trent ‘Torol’, as his wife did, and the Lady Trent ‘Stella’, as did her husband. They laughed and told him family jokes and demanded details of how he had found Neal and Mozzie.

 

“Neal was at the local Market with two other Earthling slaves, one of whom was Lady June. I bought them all. And then some of their friends joined us – including Mozzie.”

 

“And you are brothers?” Stella asked, uncertainly, looking from one to the other.

 

“I told you no-one would believe it, Neal!” Mozzie pointed out.

 

Neal laughed. “We have been brothers of the spirit, Lady Trent, for a long time, working together and helping each other, but our Lord made that official by adopting us both, as did June.”

 

“I understand from common rumour that you have no siblings and no kin of your blood, Caerrovon,” Torol said. “If that is true, it is indeed sad.”

 

“My mother was full Laffay, so I am blood-kin to them – an uncle of sorts to my Neal’s betrothed, Litha,” he waved and she nodded and smiled at him, “and as is often the way of those with deep sensitivities, my mother did not long outlive my birth. My father chose never to again marry, and so I had no siblings, not even out of wedlock. Lord Betchem’s first wife was my mother’s sister, so we are also kin by marriage.” A slight heaviness fell over the company, but Lord Steel continued,

         “But my man, who was my father’s before me – Brak, here – raised me, spent more time teaching and caring for me than my father, and he and his wife are like my parents. And my two sons and their mother and their betrothed are now closer to me than many sons and siblings, I believe.”

 

 

After supper they repaired to the Greatroom and broke into smaller groups that changed as the evening went on. At one point Lord Trent sat by June and asked, “Caerrovon said he thought not that you would mind, Lady June…but I am sadly curious! If Masters Neal and Mozzie look not alike, they also resemble your good self very little! There must be a story there!”

 

June smiled. Neal glanced across at her and thought how well she fitted into any society in which she found herself. _She must have been a great asset to Byron!_

June said to Lord Trent, “Torol, that story is more theirs than mine. My husband died and I found myself all alone in a large house. I was lonely and somewhat depressed. I went to a merchant’s building and met Neal who was living in squalid conditions forced upon him by his work. As you see, he is beautiful, bright and friendly and I took him home and offered him shelter in one suite of my house.

         “Others said I was very kind, but I was not. He filled the house with light and youth, and soon his friend Mozzie joined him, sometimes making a visit of a week or two with us, sometimes just coming over for an afternoon.”

 

“And you were a slave, dear lady?”

 

“I was on the Slave Ship and that was indeed terrible. Once Caerrovon bought us, it was as though we became his family very soon. I do believe he expected nothing of me, Torol.”

 

“He is a good man, then.”

 

“He is one of the best men I have ever known, and I have known a few exceptional men – including my husband, Neal and Mozzie.”

 

 

The little gathering broke up early to let the Trents get an early night, but the next morning all the Lord Trent family, and some of their men, Caerrovon and Neal along with Brak, Leran, Tammy and Merritt went for a ride on some of the horses Klenalth and Steel had picked out for the family to consider.

 

That evening the ‘Steel Band’ played music and there were local ‘country dances’ and everyone seemed determined to make sure Caerrovon and Shalla danced several times together! Then, at Steel’s request, Neal and June sang a few Earthling songs, and then, after small snacks, tea, wine and ale, there was a bit more dancing.

 

The next morning Litha, Shalla, Arastella and Arallesta, along with many of the children of Steel Keep and a bunch of warriors for protection and guidance, went for a ride while Caerrovon, Neal and Mozzie, Torol and his business advisor Teressia pulled up chairs and small tables in Steel’s study and went about finding ways of increasing trade and usefulness of each of their Keeps for the other. Mozzie noted that it was unusual for a Keep to have a female business and trade advisor, but Teressia was organised and left no details unsettled to confuse the participants later.

 

“I do hope we can get together often, Caerrovon,” Torol told him. “This has been most enjoyable! I must go and see if my ladies have found their way back yet!”

 

“I will come with you!” Lord Steel nodded, and the two went off with Brak bringing up the rear.

 

“I had better write up all my notes,” Teressia told the two men, “if you will give me leave, Masters?”

 

“Neal – Mozzie,” Neal said, gesturing to each of them. “We were not born to noble houses, remember. Your skills are excellent, Teressia.”

 

“Thank you, Neal!” she said, her face lighting up for the first time since the start of the meeting. “I try to do my best; few women are given such a role on Brethsham, I am sure you have noticed.”

 

“We have Tassins who are trusted communicators and who are women, and my own Litha is an excellent swordswoman, as is comon with all the women of Steel.”

 

“Most women wish not to do things I do,” she nodded. “but it has always been easy for me, and I am glad Lord Trent has faith in me.”

 

The Trents left early the next morning, not wishing to outstay their welcome, especially in one of the busiest seasons – and having things to oversee at home. But by general consensus, Steel and Shalla were left to wander the new gardens alone for a hour or two of their last day, and then they rode for another couple of hours, only returning just in time to dress for dinner.

 

 

As the next afternoon’s light started to look just a little warmer as the sun lowered, Neal collared his father and took him to the garden.

 

“Well, Neal?” Steel asked, amused.

 

“Well, my Lord?” Neal turned. “Did Lady Shalla enjoy our garden?”

 

“She did, Neal. I do not know how you made my flowers bloom, but they are glorious, and the scent fills the bowl.”

 

“Me that was not. That was mostly Mozzie and June, who know details about things I do not.”

 

“I did ask and found that it was your hard work, though.”

 

“Merritt and Joster and I dug them and planted them, my Lord and just because of their size they did more than did I!”

 

“Thank you, Neal. I went to the school and thanked them all this morning for all their toil and input, as well. It is the first morning I have not felt overwhelmed with work and details!”

 

“It is so easy and costs nothing, and a sincere gift of praise and appreciation means so much!”

 

Steel glanced down. Neal sounded a little intense, as though he had experienced the opposite. But Neal went on, “And so, were your original feelings about Lady Shalla correct, indeed? Are you going to pursue the relationship?”

 

“I like her very much, Neal, she is straightforward and sincere and happy.”

 

“I hate to sound all responsible, my Lord – are there other ladies of the marriageable age you should consider?”

 

“I have met a few – no Gorenmen, yet, but there are of course well-born Betchemen, Sunderites, Laffays and Cambermen. None have felt as though they would be the best next Lady of Steel Keep, though they are all amiable and well-behaved. Perhaps she seems so fresh and new because we have not interacted with Trent for all my lifetime, I know not.”

 

“How does she feel about you, my Lord?”

 

“I think she likes me…”

 

“Oh, I am so blessed to have picked a Laffay woman, and full Laffay, with no guile and no romance!”

 

Steel put his arm round Neal and hugged him a little. “Litha already told me she approves, if that means anything, Neal!”

 

“Perhaps we can have a double wedding, my Lord!”

 

Steel laughed. “Talk Mozzie into asking dear Sally to be his wife, and do the thing properly and impressively!”

 

Neal chuckled and said, “In a society where people get together for marriages and funerals and sometimes births and the tricking of large Lords of Betchem and little else, perhaps it would be unfair to lump all our celebrations into one event!

         “And I think Mozzie would gladly marry Sally, my Lord, but she wishes to remain in this Bohemian coupling.

         “And I did notice that you characterised this sweet lady of Trent as ‘straightforward and sincere’. I am aware that you have regretted the fact that none of the three of us – not June, Mozzie nor I – are straightforward, but I do assure you, my Lord, we are always sincere with you.”

 

They sat together as the breeze blew over the flowers, and then Neal added, “Almost always…”

 

 

 

 End of Chapter 1 of Changes.

 

Comments...? - don't know how many of you are still visiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Pealing of the Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal and Litha plan their wedding, Mozzie does his own thing, Steel is pre-occupied...and then the bells ring..!

 

 

 

 

Neal and his father went inside as the wind picked up and Neal started to feel the cold. It was time to help with the preparations for dinner, and everyone was talking about the Trents and the fact they’d bought four horses and would send for some more, and that they had been so friendly and casual…it didn’t seem long before the table was ready and they sat.

“You feel the Trents could be true friends, Caerrovon?” Mozzie asked.

“I hope so. Litha read them sufficiently to know that they are honourable and sincere. The Chiri work with them and have said nothing to warn me about them.”

“You might find them a little…too open and direct, my Lord,” Tammy said.

“Why say you that, Tamlin?” Steel asked, somewhat surprised.

“Well, my Lord! – you welcomed a large group of Earthling that are all very intelligent, very assertive, and very sneaky: layers upon layers. You _adopted_ two of the sneakiest and most multi-layered. You enjoy their …eccentricities.                                                                                              “Think you not that a woman such as this sweet and open Shalla Trent might become boring?”

“Boring…what a lovely concept!” Steel grinned, and Neal threw a bread roll at him. Without looking, apparently, Steel caught it.

Neal flicked a touché at his Lord’s reflexes and speed, smiling broadly.

“And you, oh not-very-boring son, will sit down and tell me why you thought it good to go to Sunder, as soon as possible!” Steel told him.

“You see, my Lord?” Tammy repeated. “Not dull and boring.”

“They are the only craftsmen I know who could make the rose-vase for the Trents. I had no time to find others! And I did not disobey you, my Lord – Lira took me. Which is always a good idea when going to Sunder, because their warriors are always on the lookout for potential sword practice.”

“But you knew not how they would receive you!” Steel said.

Neal shrugged. “Had they not, I would have…had Lira …bring me back. But they had already told us they wanted more fog material, and I had their next parcel. And they still wish me to refrain from telling the story of Jebb and the scarf and his underwear!”

“I think in mixed company, I want you to refrain from telling it, also, Neal.”

Neal grinned again.

“Now explain what is this fog material, and where did you get it?”

“Oh, our textile fabricators made several different samples, and we found one that worked.”

“But what _is_ it?”

“As you know, Sunder often runs short of water during the driest months. The winds carry the rain clouds away to the north where it falls as snow that feeds Camber’s fields and the Blue River and others. Steel and other Keeps provide drinking water if Sunder experiences scarcity. But I noticed the huge trees that grow nearby their Keep and on Earth large trees survive by collecting water from sea-fog, which blankets Sunder for a great deal of the time when no actual rain falls, especially at night, though it sometimes moves away or burns off as the sun rises higher. So we rigged sort of nets with the fabric, and the dampness from the fog collects on all the thin fibres and runs into cisterns. They are very happy, and we have several large orders, my Lord.”

“But tell me these things you do not, Neal! Why?”

Neal shrugged. “Perchance it would not work. Make them rich in water it will not, but will make them self-sufficient, I believe.”

“Is there some record of all your dealings, Neal?”

“There are accounts with the textile factories…but I feel it would be to our advantage to record not my knowledge of Jebb’s failure, my Lord. Otherwise, no. I never was good with paperwork.”

“Other than origami,” murmured Mozzie in English, “bonds, and counterfeit notes.”

“Mozzie!” Neal protested. Then, after some consideration, “Well, I am excellent with the last two of those. I can do very simple origami sculptures, but I am no master.”

“He will show you paper sculpture, Caerrovon,” Mozzie said, to prevent the question.

“Can you record these transactions and their ramifications, Mozzie – or Sally?”

“We can, my Lord.” Mozzie sighed. “I wish Neal would, but he will not, or he will make careless mistakes.”

“That is indeed clever, is it not?” asked Litha, smiling admiringly at Neal.

“Yes, it is. Unfortunately,” Mozzie told her, “it is impossible to prove, or to correct without violence, and neither Neal nor I like violence. Neal actually avoids violence to the detriment of himself and those around him unless he is enraged, and always for another. I avoid it, but not to the extent that anyone can be sure I will not resort to terminal measures. But not with friends, of course. Therefore, he continues unchecked.”

“Feel not bad about it, Moz,” Neal said, kindly. “Peter gave up on forcing me to do most of the reports. Well, you know Peter – he kept trying, but there was no real way he could force me to do _good_ work, and poor work was going to come back to get him sooner or later. I never promised to be an accountant – that was his chosen profession! He never was sure if I was an idiot when making out reports, or merely acting like one! I am an artist, after all…no head for details.”

“Other than bonds and counterfeit notes…!” Mozzie grinned at his friend. He often wished he hadn’t disliked the FBI offices so much. He would have bugged them, just to revel in those interactions between his sparkling partner and a bunch of dull bureaucrats!

 

 

To the delight of Steel Keep, and somewhat to her Lord’s embarrassment, Trent Keep sent that very Lord an invitation to join them for several days, and to bring his sons and anyone else he chose.

“I am sure the Gorenmen would think this invitation comes with unseemly haste upon the heels of their visit to us, Caerrovon!” Brak remarked over the mid-day meal, grinning slyly.

“They merely offer the invitation because they have bought ten more of our mighty steeds, Brak!” Caerrovon said, with dignity, but none of his family of slaves agreed for a moment that this was merely horse-trading, and he was gently teased by his sons and those slaves in his close circle.

“They are telling us that they are seriously considering a handsome stallion for their pretty filly, my Lord!” Neal chuckled when they were alone, and Caerrovon flushed. Neal studied him. “If you are not truly interested, I think your sons should take on this responsibility of conveying the horses, which will be a compassionate way of telling the lady that you feel that you and she will not suit. You know we will handle the interaction with finesse and sensitivity, my Lord.”

Caerrovon did not look at Neal for a moment, but when he did his eyes gave him away.

“Ah,” Neal smiled. “In that case, my dear Lord, enjoy your visit to Trent!”

 

 

Once Lord Steel’s coaches and retinue had left, Mozzie tracked down Joster and Merritt, apparently trying to murder each other with wooden swords. He waited till Merritt noticed him and stepped away from the fray, and immediately they both came over.

“Sir Mozzie!” Joster said, with a little bow for his half-knot. “Is there ought we can do for you – is Neal – Master Neal – well?”

“As far as I know, Neal is very well, helping Litha and a friend of mine sort out overseers for orphanages on Earth. I am less able than any of them with judging people. I tend to mistrust as a matter of course.

            “Now, you know I do not have a personal man, though you are kind enough to lend your services when Neal needs you not. However, I wished to ask you about spring weather patterns. It is for a special project of mine.”

 

 

Neal watched Litha as they jumped round the world with an admiration that would have been envy in a lesser individual, and one less in love! She picked up the cultural nuances far quicker than he would have, she understood the languages, though didn’t speak them perfectly – she always had a slight accent that everyone found charming. Neal did not know how she did that! With her help and Mr Jeffreys’ experience, they put in place ‘house-mothers and fathers’ and area overseers (whom they immediately dubbed ‘house-grandparents’) and came away feeling happy about their choices except in one area in Australia where they had found no suitable house parents. Happily, though, the house-grandparents were content to pull double duty till someone else could be found.

“We will be checking up regularly,” Neal said, shrugging his shoulders. “We do not want to seem distrustful…”

“With the generous salaries you are paying,” said Mrs Finch, the white-haired lady of the pair, “it is wise to be suspicious. You know people will do it for the money, if there is not sufficient over-sight.”

“But you know what they say,” her husband said, “pay peanuts, get monkeys, and that’s the problem with lots of services for kids!”

“Exactly,” Mr Jeffreys said. “We want the best, these friends of mine are prepared to pay well, but we want the best we can find, too. The changes that we can make for these little ones…!”

“As we know with my friend that you raised,” Neal smiled. “That’s why we started this: he was left on Mr Jeffrey’s doorstep as a newborn, and he knows how lucky he was to get a decent, caring man and not a …a…”

“Bastard in it for the dough!” Mr Finch said with a grin. “That’s all they are, really, those types!”

“Sadly, too many of them,” Mr Jeffreys nodded.

Litha shook their hands heartily, and they left them to put together plans and find suppliers and all the things that would have to be done.

It was only when they got back to Steel Keep, late the next morning, that she asked Neal, “Neal, I wanted not to ask at the time, but what is a bastard? I could not understand, their emotion was merely of a nasty man…and do they truly use uncooked bread for currency, is it as bad as all that? We could give them some gold!”

“I love you, Litha!” Neal said, and kissed her. “And I am very joyful that there are not too many tendays till we wed. I know it is probably very old-fashioned, but I so want you to be mine.”

She kissed him back enthusiastically. But then she opened her eyes wide and said, “I understand that dough is bread, but - ”

“I know not why, my love, but our people often have names for things – extra names.” Neal frowned a little. There was not even a word for ‘slang’ in Sheel!

“Well, I understand _that!_ ” Litha said, nodding. “Mozzie explained to me. When he calls you on the plastic-thing…tele-phone? I am right? And he says, ‘I have the wine for tonight, he means he has placed the bomb, and no-evil-one who can hear knows what you are talking about! So this is the same?”

Neal considered that kissing her would be easier than explaining, but took a deep breath and said, “That is an example of substituting one word for another. We would perhaps call that a ‘code word’. So if you ever want me to know you are safe, but wanted not anyone to know what you were talking about, you could say, ‘The window pane needs replacing’, and I would know you were safe.”

“But a word it is not, it is a sentence.”

“I think you should try and read me as a speak, as some of these images may be quite alien to you!            “That is part of the code. Before the wars there were…oh…programmes? Security passwords, and then questions one would have to answer correctly to access the programme if you forgot the password. And they asked questions, such as ‘what was your mother’s name’. Now most people stupidly put their mother’s name! But that is vital information, and often used for identification. But if you chose the question, ‘What is your mother’s name?” but put as the answer, ‘Terribly dark purple’, well, they didn’t have your mother’s name, and if anyone tried to guess, they would not easily do so, as it is not a name at all.”

“Oh, it is a trick. You are good at tricks, Neal! Tell me another?”

“Perhaps the question might be, ‘What was the name of your first pet?’ – now what might you put as a trick answer?”

“Something that was not at all a pet name? – such as ‘Please dig the flower-bed,’?”

“Exactly, my clever Litha!”

“But then it is harder to remember than the name of your favourite animal, Neal.”

“That is very true! But almost impossible for someone else to guess.”

“How do you...oh, you and Mozzie have good memories.”

“And codes. Ways of hiding information. So I used to write my secret trick answers and my passwords in different codes and hide them, just in case, because there were many to remember.”

“I think most people are not as clever as you, my Neal.”

“I did not think that to be true at all when I was growing up, but sadly you may be correct. At least I will agree the average person was much more trusting than I!”

“So the dough is a code word…?”

“No – to add to the confusion of our language…remember I told you about the ‘Cockney rhyming slang’?”

“Yes!” she smiled. “The trouble and strife wife that became merely trouble!”

“For various reasons that sometimes seem good at the time, things are given names – almost like me calling you ‘Litha’, rather than ‘Aramalitha’. The paper currency in my country had a greenish colour on the reverse side, so they were called ‘greenbacks’. They were nice. Very easy to counterfeit.                                                                                                                                                  “Because they were green, they were also called ‘Lettuce’, or ‘cabbage’, which are green plants - but also dough and bread, because money was so vital for existence in most countries, bucks because buckskins were used for trade in early times, clams, because clam shells were, also, Moolah, Simoeons, Booty – it goes on and on. Most of these words are used more commonly in certain areas and certain time periods.”

“But why?” Litha asked, amazed. “If they are tricking someone, that I understand. But otherwise, it seems an unnecessary complication.”

Neal smiled a little. “I think it makes people – Earthlings, any way! – feel connected. If you are in an area that calls money ‘clams’, and a stranger comes in and calls it ‘lettuce’, he’s not part of the society. When he calls it ‘clams’, he connects with the local people, and they feel he is one of them and so does he.”

“But Neal, if everyone called it ‘money’, they would all be connected everywhere, and no-one would be a stranger!”

“It is like the livery we wear, to show we are from Steel. You used to wear Laffay colours, now you belong here.”

She nodded. “It is nice to be known to be accepted at Steel, now.”

“Exactly, even though part of your heart will always be Laffay.”

“And part of your heart will always be Earthling.”

“I am most blessed, for I can be here, and there, and I love June of Earth and Lord Steel of Brethsham. I can live both lives.”

“Neal, I have to ask something of you…”

“Yes, Litha, whatever I can do - ”

“No, I merely wish to know why Alex did not come and find the treasure with us? I thought she would. Is she unhappy because of me? I wish not to read your feelings about her, you feel private about her.”

‘And if I told you she was, would you give me up for her?” Neal queried, amused.

“I should,” Litha said, “if I was generous. And I _would_ , my Neal, except for your heart.

            “But I see there was another reason…?”

“Yes, I did contact Alex, because I promised her the work. And I would have enjoyed having her share the diving with me, it took a long time, caused you to get bored and hot and to interact with sharks! – but she is suffering from a mild case of a disease we call ‘flu – short, again, for influenza!”

“You could have brought her to see Lira!”

“And I offered, but she said she would rather not. I was mistaken, though the ‘flu symptoms are not pleasant. I thought she, of all my friends, would most easily accept the alien world I now call home, but it seems she finds it more strange than does Sara!”

“Does that matter to you?”

“No, though it surprises me! If in existence you had not been, I would probably have chosen – if they would have me – one or the other, Sara or Alex. We were good for each other, each of them and me, at various times. But I would rather die a bachelor than ever give up my Lord. And at one time I thought the one to accept my double life would be Alex, not Sara. But if she had felt strange about translating to Brethsham, I would have given her up.”

“They both love you, Neal.”

“And I love them. But as my love for you, Litha, it is not.”

She smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling like dappled sunlight on a rippling stream. “I think they will find other men, and then we can all be friends. But they are good women, Neal, and begrudge your not your happiness.”

“As I wish the best for them. They saved my sanity, though not as much as June, when I was ...attached to Peter.”

“I wish I had been there.”

“No. You do _not_. I would much rather you know me as a free man, even if I will always be a slave of my father.”

“But a slave you are not. That I know. I think you never were. There is a core of freedom within you…”

Neal gave his charming grin. “Technicality. I mean…he adopted me and changed my status. I know I can leave. I choose to be his bondservant as well as his son…so that is a form of voluntary slavery, after all.”

“As we are to each other.” She touched her pretty collar.

“Exactly as we are to each other.”

“Will it be forever?”

Neal tipped his head a little. “I wish we could predict that, Sweetheart. It can be work, I am sure as easy as it seems now it will not always be. But I promise you I will try my hardest to make you happy, to think of you and care for you.”

She reached up and touched the curl that fell on his forehead. “I can feel your truth, Neal, I always could.”

That made Neal chuckle. “Something I have heard before, that is not. Not ever!”

Litha smiled gently and went on, “I hear strongly within June that she does accept that a relationship outlives death, as we believe. Her heart is full of hope. She will see her beloved again, and she still is in love with him!”

“We?”

“The Laffays. Not all Brethshamen believe, but many of us hear the emotions of others, of course, and not all of them live in bodies.”

“Oh!” Neal exclaimed. “Yes – of course, I experienced that with my Lord’s mother.”

“You felt her?”

“No – when we experienced each other’s early lives? His mother was aware of her sister after she had died – her body had died. My Lord could not.”

“It is of great comfort, especially if someone is dying.”

“That I can believe.”

“We do not seek such contact, however, it is considered unmannerly.”

“That, too, I can understand! And if you are correct, if I truly saw June’s husband, then our union may indeed be forever. Are you sure that become bored with me you will not, my Litha?”

“If you were merely beautiful externally, perhaps it may be possible.”

“Oh, when I am older, you mean, and there are other, younger men for you to look upon and enjoy?”

“Sally told me there was nothing wrong with _looking!”_

“Did she just!” Neal said, in English, and Litha chuckled.

“She points out pretty girls to Mozzie.”

“Yes, so I have observed. And does he point out handsome men to her?”

“No, she told him to bother not, that outward looks are of little significance.”

“Did that stop him wanting her to show him attractive women?”

“No. You understand that it has little significance to him, also, Neal. He enjoys their looks, but his heart is fixed on Sally. She is so much more elegant than I, so much cleverer.”

Litha sighed and Neal took her elbow and shook it quite sharply. “That, my lady, is rubbish! Trash, garbage, nothing I wish you to ever say again! Yes, Sally is exceptional and very clever in certain areas. She is delightful and I would love her for Mozzie’s sake if for nothing else. She has an elegance when she chooses. But Sara is beautiful, June is beautiful and so is Alex – yet very different to each other and to Sally. They are all clever, are they not? Well, so are you. There are other women that men say are beautiful, but I see it not. Others, I see as beautiful, but not for me, like a statue or a handsome man, I can see with the eyes of my mind, but not my heart.                                

“I might have made a marriage with Alex, or Sara, but truly, beloved, though I can list all your beauties and your brilliances, it does not exactly explain the fact that you, and you alone, best fulfil me; you complement me. I believe you to be most desirable and beautiful, but perhaps I am wrong, if looked upon with the eyes of my mind. But I can only see you with my heart. If that list of beauties and clevernesses was a hundred times longer for another woman, I could only shrug and tell you that it would not matter, for that list is not what makes me love you.”

Litha snuggled up to him. He was a little surprised that she did not question him, but realised that of course, she knew he was telling her his exact truth.

 

When Neal and Litha returned to Brethsham, they went on a brief visit to Laffaysham. Neal was again almost uneasy with the total acceptance! He’d seldom been the centre of attention – in a good way – for any length of time, usually just long enough to fool the people, collect the bag of rubies (or whatever) and exit through an upper window! To feel that this was going to last, to be secure, at Steel, at Laffaysham, at – Betchem. His thoughts jagged. Then he shrugged. He couldn’t change what he had done, he wasn’t ashamed of what he had done. And he enjoyed the little dance the Laffays put on for them, and learnt more about Litha’s relatives and friends…which they found vastly amusing, since he actually had to ask and receive answers – verbally! How quaint and time consuming!

While they were at Laffaysham, one of the odd spring snows blew in, covering all the trees and flowers with a light dusting. The Laffays believed this to be a good omen for the year, as these events were infrequent, and everyone stopped what they were doing and went out into it and danced and sang and sketched and painted. The plants, good, sensible Brethsham plants, ignored the snow as if it had not been.

“We are protected here, by the water,” Litha’s mother said, smiling at Neal. “We never have the cold of Steel or Betchem, and never have the heat of Goren or Trent. We are truly a blessed Keep!”

Neal nodded agreement. It was a pretty Keep, the surroundings park-like and lushly green even this early, the Keep buildings set within the gardens like a multi-coloured jewel, clean and bright with colours that were chosen not to clash. The whole city was beautiful, carefully maintained and organised as a perfectly planned painting, embraced by the large, sparkling river. And yet…

Neal liked Laffaysham, liked the Laffays, especially the Lord and Lady and the heir, and Litha’s parents, but he was very pleased to return to Steel, where he felt much more relaxed. More at home. The thick, solid, beautiful stone walls that felt as though they were part of the very earth, the gardens – here well-kept and watered, here needing more work and time than they had man-power to provide just yet. The stalls were in perfect condition, but most of the wooden sheds needed painting, needed the hinges straightened or the windows re-glazed. Somehow this felt right, and Laffaysham too pretty and too finished and too perfect, crazy as that sounded even to himself.

He knew Litha knew, and apologised for it, but she shrugged. “Imagine how hard it is I can not, my Neal. I have always accessed the personalities of others, and if I do not – as with your Mozzie – I know that I _can!_ To feel one’s way through the dark, as though blind, that is something I have never had to do, but I can feel that you soften and are at peace here, where you know the people, have known them for longer.”

Neal smiled at her, and said, “Shall we take little Theo out for a ride, if his mothers are amenable?”

Surprisingly, both Tamlin and Diana were there – Steel had taken Shiral with him this time – and they all ended up going for a ride together.

“Where’s Mozzie?” asked Diana, gaily, pulling her hair free of its restraints and letting it fly in the wind. It was nice not to have to pretend to be a boy any more!

“Off on a mission of his own. He left a cryptic note.”

“Too cryptic for Neal Caffrey?”

“I didn’t give it much thought. He said he would return within a few days, or to send Lira.”

“He is doing something dangerous, Neal?” Litha called.

“Probably not. He is always alive to the possibility of unforeseen complications, The Conspiracies of Adversaries!”

“That must have been useful when planning a heist,” Diana said. “Careful, Theo, shorten your reins, you need to keep contact with your horse’s mouth.”

Neal laughed. “How we have all become adopted by Steel!

            “And yes and no…sometimes the planning and taking of precautions took all the fun out of it.”

“How little Theo is growing,” Litha commented in English, careful not to let him hear her.

“It startles even me, Lith,” Diana replied, in kind. “But Tammy is tall – and Tassin! I am not sure what I expected.”

“But it is nice to be bigger!” Theo turned his head to call. “I can ride more of the horses, and people treat me not as though I am a baby!”

“And my Theo is very good at hearing thoughts and their emotional content!” Diana chuckled. “Are you not? Do you know, growing one, how much fun you will miss? How can I keep your birthday and Christmas and mid-summer presents a secret?”

“Oh, I can choose to listen not!” he laughed back.

“Theo, darling Theo,” Neal called, “for the sake of my sanity and your Uncle Mozzie’s, do not go into law enforcement!”

“On Earth, like my mother?” Theo queried. “I might help her, Neal, but I prefer to translate here, communicate and help our Lord, and perhaps one day go into space!”

“To me, Theo, we _are_ in space!” Diana told him, and they all laughed. It seemed to Neal that Theo was amazingly intelligent and aware for his age – but what was his ‘age’, this son of two worlds and two species – with a little help from a Chiri!

“Thank you, Neal!” Theo shouted against the strengthening wind, and Neal sighed. Not just at Laffaysham!

 

Mozzie returned unscathed from his travels and he and Neal found themselves sharing a glass of wine in front of the fire in their suite at Steel. June, Litha, Sally and Litha’s mother and sister were discussing wedding plans, and Neal had decamped feeling (correctly) that they had no need of him.

He poured more wine into Mozzie’s glass and grinned.

“What?” Mozzie demanded, seeing it.

“Things change, things stay the same. I hope that there will always be quiet times when my best friend and I sit together, alone, and enjoy a glass of wine!”

Mozzie nodded. “I agree. With all the other changes, we are still together and you are still my best friend.

            “Did you enjoy Laffaysham? Did it still feel odd to you?”

Neal shrugged a little. “They are good people, most of them – it is hard for them to harbour dark thoughts for the simple reason that others might see – feel – whatever.”

“Very difficult place to be a crook! And don’t immediately move there for the challenge, Neal!”

Neal smiled a little. “It is a pretty Keep…”

“He says with a lack of approbation odd in one of such refined artistic temperament!” Mozzie noted.

Neal explained how he’d felt. “It’s too pretty, too perfect. I come back here and feel at home.”

“Not just because our father and all our friends are here?”

“I’m not sure…

            “Our gardens are looking better, but there is still a great deal of work! The school children are whitewashing the sheds, but really they need a great deal of maintenance. The sheds, that is!”

“It is a small Keep – I mean the numbers are too small to do all the work needed. Caerrovon needs to stop sending his purchases home if he can and they wish it! He needs to buy some slaves to keep and have them work!”

Neal chuckled. “That is, remember, rather like telling _us_ to work, and not to plan heists or try to break codes and ciphers!”

“We do _work…”_ Mozzie said cautiously. “ And hard. Just at certain things…

“Of course,” he added, thoughtfully, “I can quite see why you prefer Steel to Laffaysham.”

“Why?” Neal asked, prepared for a typical Mozzie joke, quotation or pun.

“Because Steel – not the Lord, only, but the actual place – needs us.”

Neal swallowed. There was a protracted pause. “I don’t know that I have ever felt that…for any length of time, anyway. Needed.”

“That is partially because you are more humble than many have admitted, mon frère! The fact that you now acknowledge that people, and places, need you – that is good. Very good. The biggest change of all, I conjecture.” He sipped his wine. “I’m glad, Neal.”

After that, they just sat and enjoyed the evening, the wine and languid, if sometimes somewhat erudite, conversation.

 

 

Two days later Neal was playing with Litha. They had fabrics…beautiful fabrics from earth and Betchem. He was draping them round her slender body, playing with design ideas so that she would be the precious jewel in a regal yet dainty setting. She was standing completely still, her gaze averted, imagining wonderful things they would do together.

 _She’d be a wonderful model,_ Neal thought. _Beautiful…and can stand still as a statue!_

June, knitting industriously, was seated a little way off, amused at her young friends.

“It doesn’t matter all that much, Neal and Litha,” she said, with that lovely calm that characterised her, “you will have each other forever.”

“I know, dearest,” Neal started, around a mouthful of pins, which he carefully removed before continuing, since he felt as though he might inhale one! June took the opportunity to add, thoughtfully, “And no irritating photographs to haunt the sideboard or the mantelpiece, reminding one of some drunken cousin – or total stranger! - or the folly of one’s headwear, or the fact that one hadn’t stood up to one’s mother about wearing your grandmother’s totally hideous dress!”

Neal safely laughed. “I have never seen your wedding photo’s, have I, June?”

“No, Neal, you have not!”

“I could always paint _our_ wedding, since there are no cameras!”

“But you could fix it! I know with Photoshop and all that photographs were hardly reliable evidence after a while, but the joy of having a loving artist fix the day for you…!”

“In deepest confidence, show me your photo’s, and I’ll paint your special day the way you want to remember it!”

June dimpled. “I have almost grown out of my disappointment, Neal! The years, with all their ups and downs, the love Byron and I shared…it much more than made up for the one disappointing day.

            “I shall live vicariously through you two beautiful people.”

“I love Litha,” Neal said, smiling up at her from where he was kneeling, “but she is certainly no prettier than you were when you married, June! And your looks are more classically perfect. You must have been a truly beautiful bride despite the oddities of dress and guests around you!”

“Flatterer!” June remarked. “And I prefer the green and the palest yellow, Neal. Blue is not her colour.”

“No. It’s a lovely blue, lovely sheen – they didn’t have it in any other colour. And though I know I am probably making too much of this, you tell me I should plan on it being my only chance to deck out my bride – which I certainly hope is the case! – and some of the things brides _wear!_ They should be more criminal than stealing Raphaels!”

“Yes – I always thought that the Royal family must truly dislike Diana! That awful thing she was wearing, like a stiff cream puffed-satin bulky suit of armour! Totally overpowered the poor girl, and I wasn’t a huge fan, you know.

            “Litha’s mother doesn’t mind you taking over?”

“That dress stuck in my mind, too. And no, she seems quite happy.”

Litha came back from her contemplations and added, “She does request that we share it with her before the wedding.”

“Isn’t it bad luck for the bridegroom to see the bride in all her finery before the wedding day?” June asked.

“Doesn’t matter!” Neal told her. “I have no intention of actually trying to sew the dress! Lucilla – who can be as scary as Leran, and almost as well-armed – have you seen those scissors of hers? – would do me damage if anyone other than herself from Steel made the dress!”

“I am not sure that …what?” June hesitated, seeing the others suddenly look at each other.

Neal was conscious of raucous bells – the great emergency claxon bells of Steel – peeling wildly. Litha yanked him to his feet, he grabbed his sword belt and jumped.

 

He landed by the front gates of Steel. Obviously the party, including Lord Steel, had just returned from Trent. The carriages and fancy driving horses in their regalia were being hustled away, hastily armed soldiers were crowding round the Lord and Brak, they were all facing the danger…a large, fully mantled and armed contingent from Betchem…more soldiers than Steel could ever muster. Brak was kitting the Lord with armour, someone had removed his overjackets and also his dress sword and replaced it with his very serviceable battle-ready sword-and-dagger-belt, and the two dogs were facing the Betchems, growling fiercely.

Joster and Merritt started buckling on Neal’s armour. They knew he would appear. He kept his eyes on the advancing brown horde.

It was chaos, made worse by the insane, almost deafening pealing of the bells. Litha appeared, sword drawn, in her long white under-dress. Neal had an instant of seeing her as a gorgeous avatar from a sword-and-sorcery video game of old: slender, fierce and dangerous.

The Betchem force, stretching out and filling the area before Steel Keep, slowed and stopped, at a sign from their Lord. It seemed to be a thousand mounted soldiers!

“Lord Betchem himself is leading their army?” Neal gasped at his father, in shock.

“He is a great warrior, and probably feels – rightly – that we are no great match for them!”

“People always underestimated me, too,” Neal said, angrily, through his teeth, and Steel shot him a brief, if tense, smile. He thought of a story of a huge Russian army advancing on the Finns and repeated a (possibly apocryphal) quote: “But where, Sir, are we to bury all the bodies?”

Neal became aware of his horse by his side, and leaped aboard the stallion, as all the other Steel Keepers were doing. Neal glanced back and up. He could bet that Lark and all the skilled archers were crouching behind the battlements. This was such an uneven match, Leran would have to have deployed them. Desperate times…

Neal remembered the quote he had repeated to Mozzie before – these were fearsome odds, indeed. But again, not a bad way to go, his Lord and father to one side, his love, looking quite gorgeous, to the other, his men behind him, Diana over to the right – where was Tamlin?…he focussed on the men advancing – and then Mozzie appeared. He jogged between the horses and, to the astonishment of all the Steel Keepers – and probably all the Betchemen as well! – continued on and took up a position equidistant between the two great lines. No-one had time to react and stop him. He was dressed, absurdly, in a deep wine quilted dressing-gown, though he had thrust his feet into his boots. And yet, Mozzie stood with authority and dignity, which was quite a feat!

 _At least he can jump!_ Neal thought.

The bells were suddenly, ominously, silent, though their ghosts kept ringing in Neal’s ears.

“Mozzie!” hissed about thirty Steel Keepers. “Get back here!” Lord Steel gathered his reins, leaned forward and looked ready to charge the brown horde, but Leran held him back and Brak grabbed his horse’s bridle and it threw its head up angrily, anxious to join the fight.

“Wait!” Leran said.

Again, Neal saw this as a scene from literature – Sam the Hobbit facing the Dark Lord, for example, though Sam had worn more appropriate clothing…! And in the original story, they’d never come face-to-face!

“Betchem!” Mozzie called in his clear voice, quite obviously irritated _– irritated!_ \- “What on – what the hell – what do you think you are doing?”

That Lord made a sign and moved slowly forward. To his anxious father, Mozzie seemed to came up to the bay horse’s knees! Betchem stopped in front of Mozzie and asked something. Mozzie snorted – even over the jingle of the metal and the creak of the leather, the thudding of hearts, Neal, Steel and those closest heard him.

“You come here all decked out like an invading army, looking like your own dark forest on the move, and wonder why someone set off the alarm!” Mozzie yelled, now truly angry. The villagers and tenant farmers of Steel, to Neal’s surprise, drawn by the bells of war, were rapidly gathering behind and to the flanks of the Betchem army, each armed with whatever he or she could grab – the equivalents of rakes, pitch-forks, pikes, staffs, swords and knives, shovels…! Meanwhile, behind the first lines of Steel warriors, some of the house servants were gathering, and on the walls, more were hauling weapons and extra armour and supplies Neal could only guess at! Cauldrons of boiling oil? Battle catapults?

Lord Betchem glanced up at everything his advance had caused and pulled off his helmet. “I thought to do Steel honour, Mozzie, not harm.”

“Yes, some sort of note would have been nice!” Mozzie said. “Get down off that ridiculous elephantine beast and come and make your apologies!”

Without waiting to see if the Lord obeyed, Mozzie turned with a not-quite-Matrix-like swirl of wine-coloured satin, and stalked back to his own Keepers, his face a huge scowl. Steel and Neal exchanged totally bemused looks.

Betchem, with a sad case of helmet-head that lessened his dangerous mien a great deal, showed his hands were free of weapons and moved forward. His horse seemed calm, which made Neal relax slightly. Two men detached themselves and followed him, seeing the aggression etched on the faces of most of the Steel Keepers.

“Caerrovon! Believe you would think me capable of launching a surprise attack upon you, boy, I can not!” Betchem said, loudly.

“Then that, Lord Betchem, would be a very clever tactic to employ, would it not?” Steel answered, his voice hard.

The huge warrior swung off his magnificent steed and walked forward. “Well, it would not. None of the other Keeps would allow such a thing, for a start! Come, Caerrovon, are we such bad friends as that?”

“You alone can tell, Betchem, for last time I was at your Keep, you sent word by my younger son that I was no longer welcome there, all of Steel and me! That seemed not a friendly message, nor the method of sending it.”

Betchem tried to fix his hair a little and looked bashful. “Yes. I have come to apologise.”

“A letter, Betchem!” Mozzie, now standing next to Steel’s horse, yelled at him. “I said a letter! Not an armed cavalry!”

“I thought it would be more believable in person. More sincere…?”

Leran glanced at his Lord for permission to speak and asked, in his gravelly, direct way, “So you have no hostile intentions, Lord Betchem? You assure us of this?”

At this point Tamlin appeared behind Neal and hurried to Steel’s side, but saw that things were not critical any longer.

Lord Betchem drew his sword – causing all the Steel Keepers to bring their points to bear in his direction – until they saw he was wearing his ceremonial sword only, a beautiful piece set with brown onyx, some sparkling orange-brown gems, and overlaid with gold. Not the sort of thing to risk in a fight!

Steel sheathed his sword with a sigh, and Betchem followed suit. **_“Really_** , Lord Betchem!”

All the soldiers on both sides of no-man’s land relaxed a fraction. At a sign from him, his man took Lord Betchem’s horse and Steel dismounted easily and, crowded by less-trusting Brak and Leran, he walked forward to stand face-to-face with Lord Betchem.

“You are brave, Caerrovon, if you think I have any evil intent towards you!” Betchem grinned a little.

“Oh, no. Your force outnumbers mine, Lord Betchem, but man to man I have no doubt that, though you still exhibit your youthful…spontaneity…you are far too wise to engage me in single combat!”

Betchem laughed and pulled Lord Steel into a kinsman’s hug. At that point everyone sighed and relaxed and blades were sheathed with a combined, loud, metallic, almost musical rustling sound. Steel emerged from the embrace and motioned for Neal and Mozzie to join him and his men. Neal swung off his horse and they did so as Steel said, “Neal asked where we were going to put all the bodies, Lord Betchem - ”

“Oh, did he?” Betchem enquired, trying to raise one eye-brow. “You have no concept of reality or danger, either of you!”

Neal grinned tightly, a feral expression. “My brother and I have extremely clear ideas about danger, reality and death, Lord Betchem…just very little fear of them!”

“I can imagine: I think you have a saying ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?”

Mozzie shrugged and whispered, “Or ‘familiarity breeds’...”

Steel interrupted this ruthlessly. “The problem still arises, Lord Betchem. We are a small Keep and were unprepared - ”

“Because of the complete and total lack of any sort of warning, formal or otherwise!” Mozzie interjected, still irritated.

“ – for such an influx. Since we are all going to live through this, I must tell you: we cannot house easily such a crowd as you have brought with you!

            “As it is, because of your previous…edict about our welcome at Betchem, even you will have to make do with your suite as it is, and take us as you find us.”

“That’ll larn him!” Neal chuckled under his breath.

“Oh, most of these are not staying, you need not worry about them,” Betchem said, waving his hand negligently at the perfectly drawn-up lines of mounted warriors. “They will camp in your field here for a night and most will leave first thing. They have supplies for the return journey.

            “I merely wanted to make myself plain: I come to apologise and let everyone know we are friends…if you can forgive me, Caerrovon, which I assume you have done. I did bring some lovely carved furniture as a peace offering...?”

“Which nearly became your funeral pyre!” Mozzie said, with another expressive snort.

“No, no, our Tassin gave some warning!”

“He told you, my Lord,” Grethlyn said, patiently, at his left hand, “that he could not ‘find’ Tamlin nor Shiral at Steel! You understand it is not polite to find them elsewhere?”

“They are both away from the Keep…” Steel said, frowning. Neal found later that Tammy and Shiral had been taken by Lira to help a Tassin who had suffered a head injury and could not hear thoughts at all, and was traumatised and panicking badly. They had taken Theo, in the hope that his gentle presence would help calm her. It had been a sad confluence of events, which now seemed resolved.

“I thought he would make contact before we reached the Keep,” Betchem shrugged, unconcerned.

“What part of ‘a letter’ did you misunderstand, Lord Betchem?” demanded Mozzie, and Steel put an arm around him and said, “Shh! It is all well, Mozzie.”

“Things could have gone very wrong,” Mozzie huffed. He really hated anything he considered to resemble stupidity, though he found it a sadly common trait amongst humans generally. Familiarity with _that_ had certainly earned his contempt!

“I would have attacked not, and they would have attacked not, Mozzie,” Betchem said. “I would have attacked not because I came not here to attack, and they would have attacked not because my friend Lord Steel, your father, is not crazy.”

Neal bristled a little. “You are a large force, Lord Betchem. You also know our strength is not to be measured by mere numbers of men and women…though there are many, here!”

He was right. The local businessmen and traders, farmers and artisans were still lurking – some in the hope of a fight, some in the fear of a fight, and some enjoying the spectacle of what now appeared to be at least a reasonably friendly interaction!

“My soldiers fight not with unarmed – or poorly armed – commoners!” Betchem snapped, annoyed.

“I will do well to remember that,” Neal nodded, still unsure of Betchem. “It will make our job much easier if we do ever cross…weapons.”

Steel turned and said, quietly, “It is a misunderstanding, my sons. Lord Betchem is trying to tell us he is our friend again, and for that I am glad.”

“I am glad you are glad, my Lord!” Neal stated blandly. He did not say, but obviously still felt the betrayal of Betchem blaming his Lord and his Keep for his own personal actions.

Betchem spread his arms and said, “Lord Steel, Mozzie of Steel and Neal of Steel – and all the Steel Keepers! – I devoutly apologise for my earlier actions! I come in force to show you how many men are at your call should you need them in any future altercation.”

“Thank you, Lord Betchem,” Steel said, and looked pointedly at one son and then the other.

“Thank you, Lord Betchem,” they both said, with a deep and profound lack of emotion that made the two Lords laugh.

“Come, let us get your horses watered and your people refreshed,” Steel said.

“You must be patient,” Neal said, his blue eyes still flashing, “Lord Betchem, because you have such a large force, and we are so very few…it would take time for that reason alone.”

“And because we had no warning,” Mozzie muttered.

“And perhaps we feel not like hurrying,” Neal nodded.

Steel sighed.

 

The mid-day meal was served in the formal dining-room. As soon as the Keep staff had realised that there was not going to be a war, real consternation broke out in certain of their ranks! They scurried to try and get the Betchem suite, resentfully ignored to gather dust till this moment, to some semblance of order! Neal, Litha and Mozzie went to help, leaving Steel to manfully delay Lord Betchem as long as possible, taking him to see the new gardens and having wine and a small snack brought out to the benches there. Betchem, of course, with his superior empathy, knew quite well what was toward, but in noble fashion, ignored it. It was all his own fault, though only a tiny trickle of chagrin was allowed to find its way into his consciousness.

Meanwhile, Neal and Mozzie (now changed into normal day-clothes) hardly helped, as they got a fit of the giggles over the ridiculous ‘battlefield’ tableau, and used too much time and energy thinking of ways – possible and less possible – of booby-trapping Betchem’s suite! Luckily Ophera appeared on the scene with the linens, since her kitchen staff had the meal well in hand, and called them peremptorily to order. And luckily, they both respected Ophera and had no need to defend their station, and so the work got done. There may be a few dustbunnies breeding under the bed, and the hangings were still the same as the last time the Betchem’s visited, which was the night of the party, and therefore in the not too far-distant past, after all.

The mid-day meal was served in the formal dining-room, and everyone was polite and no-one scraped their cutlery across their plates, nor their chairs across the floor. They conversed quietly about absolutely nothing with people on either side, and sipped their wine – except Mozzie, who felt he deserved to drink what happily others felt they could not.

Eventually the tiresomely formal meal ended and Lord Betchem, somewhat subdued by the chilliness of the surroundings, begged an audience with Lord Steel and his two sons. Since Neal and Steel were wanting to hear what Mozzie had done, they foregathered in Steel’s study, accompanied by some of Trent’s liquor and more wine. Steel noted the liquor and frowned at Neal, but Betchem also saw it and shuddered.

“Take that away. The Trents sell it as potable, but it is good only for removing wood-stains and lacquer, I swear!”

Steel removed the offending bottles and motioned for Betchem to take the largest comfortable chair. The others then settled round the room, Brak and Joster and Merritt standing against the walls, as did Towan.

“They should sit, also, Caerrovon. I take oath I am harmless, at least for this visit! And as you tactlessly pointed out, I cannot best you in a fight, against even your sword alone, let alone your two sons and all your men!” At a gesture, the men all sat down, remaining alert.

Neal and Mozzie exchanged a glance. They hadn’t been sure that Betchem knew of the Steel gift.

There was a silence.

Betchem sighed. “No-one is making this easy for me, are they? All right, I concede: I reacted badly to the Gorens’ appearance! The disagreement was of generations ago, it was an instinctive reaction, merely. I know I was furious at the time, but I find I cannot recall the feeling, after all these four-seasons.”

“A girl, was it? Or money?” Neal asked, wide-eyed.

Betchem eyed him sourly. “A woman of great beauty and far more manners than you will ever possess, young man!”

“Unless he steals them,” Caerrovon told him, blandly, and Betchem blinked, chuckled, then continued:

“I just wanted some small revenge on Neal,” Betchem said, shrugging. “I would have recovered my senses had I not sampled too many foreign – and alien – beverages that night. They clouded my judgement and exacerbated my rage. I cannot even remember you visiting me, Neal, that is how blurry things had become. When Towan told me what had happened, I was discomposed. But you had already left. Then I found that the other Keepers seemed not to know what I had told Neal, and I hoped it would all die down and be forgotten. I was sure, Neal, that you knew I was drunk, boy!”

“I knew it. But seldom do people forget everything they have done, Lord Betchem! And often inebriation does not cloud their motivations, but removes barriers so that they allow their real feelings to be seen.”

“Yes, well…” Betchem fidgeted, which looked odd on a man of his bearing and bulk. “I wanted to say those things, but I did not want to say them to you…I was merely angry. I certainly did not want to alienate my friend Caerrovon.”

“Did you and Goren make up your …disagreement?” Neal persisted.

Betchem looked at Steel, but the Lord was toying with a cup of tea and merely raised an eyebrow when he noticed the pause. Betchem said, “I hate you all, you know! Lord Goren and I were friendly with each other. It is nice to share memories with someone who actually does remember the time of one’s youth! I think too much time has passed for us to rekindle the very good friendship we once shared. It is sad.”

No-one said anything for a long few moments, then Steel leaned forward and asked, mildly, “What did Mozzie do, Lord Betchem, to convince you to visit me in this unorthodox manner?”

“Ah, that is another tale!” Betchem almost snarled.

“Did he gamble away your honour and your decision?” Neal asked, eyes alight, thinking of the poor startled Gorenmen.

“Oh, I think all the Five – Seven! – Alliance Keepers must become used to blackmail and corruption from the Sons of Steel,” Betchem said, glaring at Mozzie and then Lord Steel.

“What did he do, Betchem?” Steel asked.

“In that squall of spring snow we experienced, my men told me a small child was huddled in the snow by our front gate. I told them to bring him or her inside and make them comfortable, but was told, a half-candlemark later that a child it was not, it was a man and the first heir to Steel that had asked the Chiri to bring him and leave him there and come in he would not. Also that he was very cold, and not wearing sensible clothing.”

Neal and Steel looked at Mozzie, who poured himself some more wine, appearing either unaware or uninterested in the conversation.

Betchem went on, “I told the warriors that I knew the older son of Steel and that if bring him into the Keep by force they could not, they would be summarily demoted to not a lowly military rank, but the least navvy, forced to do the most menial of tasks forever! They returned some time later, in great agitation, saying that he – this Mozzie! – had told them that he was anathema, banished, and be brought legally into Betchem Keep he could not.”

Neal grinned.

“I told them to bring him anyway and they did, apparently, carry him into the warmth of the Keep, and cover him with blankets, but in some mysterious way – perhaps a Chiri was helping him? – he was soon outside again, without the blankets. Even though they locked the doors and bolted them…he could have unbolted them, so they locked the great locks also and eventually removed the keys when he kept disappearing to outside the gates.” (Neal grinned again and Steel frowned at him.)

Betchem took a breath and continued, “This farce continued for the whole morning, and my men brought me word that they were growing nervous for his continued health, even though there was only about two feet of snow. Short of physically restraining him, they seemed unable to keep him safe. The Earthlings had told them that they – from Earth – cannot endure cold conditions as we can, born on Brethsham. I resolved that if he wanted to freeze to death, he could!

            “However, Caerrovon, Ethlan heard of this and was…vociferous about the matter. Then Floretha came, bringing Ambrose…they could not understand what had happened, it seemed as though I was clinging to a happening of pre-history! And I know how much you love these odd adopted sons of yours. And they got rid of the stupid killer plants and Ethlan pointed out that they had repaired a rift I had caused – though Goren was equally to blame, I assure you!”

“Mm,” said Steel.

“Eventually, the men told me that Mozzie was very cold, turning blue, getting snow-sleepy and insisting stubbornly that the only way he would enter the Keep and stay in the Keep was if I came down or at least sent a fully signed and sealed document deeming that all Steel Keep was welcome, and that I spend some time with him alone in my study afterwards.”

Betchem took a swig of wine and shrugged. “It seemed a small thing, Caerrovon. Imagine losing any one of my children needlessly I can not, and I was already regretting my spirit-induced actions at your celebration. So I gave him an audience – and half a cask of my best wine, I believe! He said he needed it to warm his blood! – and he convinced me that I had no right to treat _you_ the way I had, even if I chose to keep your sons away from Betchem.”

“Ah,” Steel said.

“Yes. His brain and his tongue had not frozen, not noticeably! And he can talk his way round the law as any hundred Magistrates!”

“Oh, he attained a degree from a most prestigious Centre of Higher Learning on Earth, Lord Betchem!” Neal agreed, much entertained.

“Before any conversation could take place between us, he demanded to know if I had damaged any of his brother’s art work.

            “He is of small stature, you know, Caerrovon, and mild-looking until he is in that mood and one gets a look in his eyes! - ”

“I have never seen it, Lord Betchem,” Steel answered.

“I am sitting right here!” Mozzie complained.

“What did you tell him?” Neal asked, as though compelled past the tightening of his throat.

Betchem turned to him and leaned forward. “Neal, son, I would never damage those magnificent works if I was a thousand times more angry and insulted! They have caused me distress at how we parted, every time I see them.”

Something deep within Neal uncoiled and he said, more naturally, “You did damage other art work, some of it very beautiful.”

“I know. I was very young and furious and stupid. I have learnt something in all my seasons, Neal. I have regretted many of those actions.”

“Yet you fought against reversing some of them,” Neal said. “You should find someone to restore the artwork you destroyed, Lord Betchem.”

Steel stirred and took pity on his friend. “Enough, Neal. Your point is taken.

            “Go on Lord Betchem…you were talking with Mozzie…?”

Betchem turned back and made a face. “Your son…! He knows the laws here, even the historical, archaic laws that are never in use, some of them have not been for millennia of winters, since before the formalisation of the Keeps – some, he told me, from before King Delthius’ reign! He knows them far, far better than anyone I have ever met at the House or at the Guild of Magistrates!” Betchem exclaimed, exasperated. “He expounded them at length, rules and laws and contracts and covenants between houses and families long dead, between trading houses, how disagreements had been settled in the House which showed the strength and validity of the laws!

            “ I was soon concerned that he had found a way to make my holdings forfeit to Steel because the Sons of Steel had saved us from the murderers and aided our trade and honoured them adequately I had not! Remember all he said I can not, but my head was becoming as fuddled by his brilliant arguments and quoting of the laws, ancient language, grammar and all, word-for-word, whole _scrolls at a time! -_ as by that dreadful foaming drink we had at Christmas and the Trent liquor combined!

            “I agreed to his demands that I withdraw that stupid edict against Steel with even more formality and send such documents to all the Keeps, and make friends and he – I _think! –_ agreed to leave me and my family my forests, my moveable assets, my Keep and my lands!

            “It was worth it just to get him to stop, as I was developing a nasty headache!”

Steel sipped some more tea and was strangely silent, then looked up and his face twisted and he burst out laughing. “Mozzie! How could you!”

“But, my Lord!” Mozzie said, earnestly. “Everything I said was true. The laws are clear. Repealed they have not been, they are still completely enforceable. In fact, as I assured Lord Betchem, the laws were the same when he was younger and only the fact that none of the other Alliance Keepers knew the laws allowed a young Lord Betchem to retain his knot! Or they were too nervous of the might of that great Keep, I know not.”

“But the other Keepers, not of the Alliance – the King and the Military! Surely someone would have pointed out the illegal nature of Betchem sending Goren, and Trent by association, away?" Neal demanded.

“Think, Neal!” Mozzie said, a little exasperated. Keepers and FBI agents and ordinary humans were bad enough! Neal should not need to ask for such obvious explanations! “The other Keeps on Brethsham, and the Royal House itself were only too pleased to see the great Seven weakened! A Keep war has not happened since, but if one had, they were in a far better position with Goren and Trent isolated, and the Five also less powerful because of their lack!”

Betchem moved in his seat. “I was too young, too angry and overcome to think of something so vital. I was selfish and immature. Mozzie, you were quite right to point it out to me, though I could have wished you had been more diplomatic in your wording, and I wish you had been by all those years ago – not least because, from what I understand, be here now you would not!”

Steel laughed aloud again. “I love Betchem. It is almost as beautiful as Steel Keep. I am somewhat sorry you gave way to Mozzie’s …er…suggestions!”

Betchem glared at him, then his mouth tugged into a grin. “I told you, at the celebration, did I not, that they might be trying to take over Betchem, and not insignificant Steel?”

“Considering what has gone forward these last few fifty-days, I cannot see how you can ever call Steel insignificant again, Betchem!” Caerrovon chuckled.

Betchem chose to ignore this. “I may not be able to make up the days with Lord Goren, Caerrovon, but I wish not to lose any more days with you! You are like a son to me…though the fact that this makes me related to these two … ** _pirates!_** …gives me pause!”

“Their subtlety, skills and great intelligence – and bravery – is very useful to me, and has been to you, too!” Steel smiled at his sons.

“Only when those characteristics are aimed not at _me_ , Steel!” Betchem pointed out decidedly.

Steel laughed again. He was very happy to be able to laugh with his friend again.

 

 

 

 

 

End of Chapter 2 of Changes.

 

Sorry that it has been so long...some of you understand why. I made a special effort to get this chapter up, and will attempt to make the next appear in less time than this one took!

 

And thank you, all of my reader-friends.

 


	3. Feast and Exhibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steel Keep says thank you to the townspeople, and Mozzie forces the issue.

 

 

Neal stood with Lord Steel, feeling a great sense of peace and comfort. He knew he was home, and his spirit nestled within the stone, within the hearts and minds that made up Steel Keep.

 

He and his father were watching their people: slaves, freemen, both businessmen and farmers, some tenants on Steel lands, everyone who lived within Steel’s protection…relaxing, eating and talking and having fun. Mozzie and Lord Betchem (a ridiculous looking pair) were bringing out more ale, and Neal moved to help them. Betchem had kept some of his soldiers at Steel to guard the perimeter so that every one of Steel’s people could enjoy the feast. He was doing what he could to compensate for his drunken mistake…and his over-zealous acknowledgement thereof!

 

Of course, his good thoughts were thwarted! Ophera and her kitchen crew were scandalised when it was suggested that food could be brought from elsewhere, or that it could be served cold!

 

Neal had also bowed to Mozzie’s dictum that pizza really was not only bending, but smashing the Prime Directive!

 

“What’s next? Carbonated drinks and chewing gum with aspartame – before the Wars you could not get any with sugar in anymore! genetically modified corn, refined sugar by the kilogram, artificial colourings and preservatives? I know Lira can do miracles, Neal, but to addict these poor folks to our terrible way of eating, and have the Chiri running about fixing clogged up arteries and diabetes and things – no!”

 

“You do know that cholesterol…?”

 

“Yes, I know the cholesterol conspiracy, Neal. Few people ask why there is hardening of the arteries, but not the veins. We know it’s all about inflammation and stress. They’ve known it for decades. We know that low cholesterol has not been correlated with longer lifespans in decent studies done by honest scientists, though it may become a factor when silent inflammation is present, though the test for that inflammation, though it was cheap and a very reliable indicator of developing problems, was seldom run.

In fact, the very opposite from the accepted norm may be true – high cholesterol in healthy individuals may be life preserving. The reason they test and advertise the lie is because the drugs they sell for high cholesterol are so very profitable.”

 

“And dangerous.”

 

“Yes. Apart from all else, statins can cause the body to cease being able to make Co-Q 10, as they call it, necessary for every cell, especially the heart. Low cholesterol seems linked to things such as Alzheimer’s. Not good…and folks back on Earth are still too ready, even after all the evidence to the contrary, to listen to so-called ‘research’, and have been poorly educated so they can’t analyse the value of said research. I just wish people would think for themselves and do some research, looking for arguments from both sides of the debate.”

 

“And it used to be easier with the internet…there always were at least two sides to every story! You’d think all those murder mystery movies and shows would teach them…”

 

“Yeah – follow the money!”

 

“But just one time, Mozzie, as a treat…?”

 

Mozzie had just thinned his mouth but, as it turned out, Ophera vetoed the whole idea, and since it seemed she might become offended, Neal immediately gave up his scheme. It would be a great deal of work getting it all here piping hot, even jumping, and _not_ letting anyone else realise he was jumping! – and being on the Keep cook’s good side was very important! Neal didn’t eat that much, though more here with the cold and the physical labour, but he savoured good food, and Ophera loved to spoil the Sons of Steel!

 

So Ophera was triumphantly ruling her kitchen and her well-trained slaves worked with her, taking turns, but no stranger was muddling or dulling her knives or using unwashed hands to dispense spices! Since Neal felt just the same way about his brushes, paints, pencils and canvases, he merely helped her as much as possible. She was trained to keep things clean and pure and organised so the food was as healthy and uncontaminated as possible. Neal and Mozzie had been trained to keep their finished products uncontaminated, too…no pigments from the wrong era, hairs from contemporary brushes (or artists!) or traceable pollen from the incorrect area - or fingerprints!

 

So now he and Mozzie took the opportunity to make the acquaintance, or further their friendship with businessmen, merchants, professionals of all sorts, who owed allegiance to their father and therefore to his sons.

 

Each family who had not been formally introduced to Neal and Mozzie came up and gave the ritual oath to share everything with the new heirs of Steel, good and bad, to the death. This blood covenant usually meant, somewhat prosaically, that the Lord Steel took responsibility to defend the less able, care for widows and orphans, adjudicate in matters too serious for the local magistrates and give aid in times of shortage.

 

In return, the people living within the area he protected gave the Keep food or any product of their labours that the Keep required, usually as a free gift, some at a reduced cost, and their able bodied members would aid in times of war…which had not happened in their memories. Often the young men, especially those not in line to inherit farms or businesses, would sell themselves to the Keep for a limited number of years.

 

The tenants also gave their tributes as rents but again, this was a loose arrangement, and if they needed mercy in times of hardship, it was almost always granted unless they were trouble-makers. These had for the most part been weeded out by Brak and Leran in the old Lord’s time! It was therefore a happy, co-operative Keep, in the main.

 

Even to Mozzie’s eye, most of the commoners seemed to genuinely like their Lord, and he certainly knew them, their families, their businesses and many personal details. There were cordial greetings and personal exchanges between the commoners, the slaves and the Lord. Neal was awed. He was so glad he had Mozzie to help him!

 

“I have known almost all of these families for most of my life, Neal! I played with some of them as children when I was a child!” Steel smiled at him. “It is not as though I am starting from the beginning, as are you.”

 

“I should have spent more time with these, our people, my Lord!” Neal apologised.

 

“Now that you and your brother have sorted out the problems besetting the community of Keeps at large, you can do that, Neal,” Steel said, soothingly. Then he added, somewhat plaintively, “Please?”

 

Neal laughed. “Yes. I would prefer that, also. I am not that addicted to excitement, my Lord!”

 

“And when you are wed, it is customary…I would say mandatory, Neal…to visit with each and every one and have a meal of some sort with them.”

 

Neal looked a little aghast. There were so many families to visit! He enjoyed getting to know people, and he felt connected to these families, but it would take many fifty-days! He asked, “How does a new wife at Betchem manage!”

 

“Oh, there is no time limit. The sooner the better, and we can arrange dinners and so on at the Keep…all the feed merchants at once, for example. But the farmers like you to visit them and eat what they provide. It is a matter of pride.

         “You see, Neal, it might fall to you and Litha to become their Lord and Lady. So they wish to judge your character and hers.”

 

“What about our honeymoon?” groaned Neal, taking a plate of breads from a kitchen slave. “I thought meeting parents-in-law was usually the worst of it!”

 

Steel grinned, but said, “I think you may take this vacation first, we can explain it is your custom.

“And in case you are unaware, Neal, they all know that you removed the murderers and the plants, and many of their children go to the school, and so your bravery in protecting them at risk of your own life is well-known. You personally, and Mozzie, too, of course, have won their trust and loyalty. And most of them are merely curious about your wife!”

 

Neal nodded, going down the first table and offering the lovely warm bread, enveloped by the scrumptious aroma. Then he grinned to himself! He _had_ come a long way from the felon that no-one trusted! After Steel’s little speech, he watched the townsfolk and farmers take Litha’s measure as she held trays or poured wine or water with her usual grace and friendly, casual manners. He was quite sure she was learning far more about each of _them!_ How useful her gift would be! She seemed unaware of their close regard but of course, this was her life, she knew of these bonds and expectations!

 

After the meal the adults sat and enjoyed their ale and wine and the chance to catch up with their neighbours and associates (and hammer out new and advantageous business deals, as happened on every planet with conscious beings) while the children gathered and played games under the indulgent eyes of Diana and Mozzie. Soon they, plus various other slaves, Neal, Tammy, and Shiral soon joined in the games.

 

“I am glad to hear youthful laughter, and see the children play again at Steel,” Betchem said approvingly by Caerrovon’s shoulder. “I hope your children will join these soon!”

 

Steel laughed. “Not that long ago it was that I was a child, Betchem!”

 

Betchem said nothing for a moment, and Steel glanced over enquiringly. Betchem met his eyes. “Much laughter here there was not while you were indeed a child, Caerrovon, and few children within the Keep. I know that you and Jarad were close, but though you enjoyed the company one for the other, I feel that you had prematurely left your childhood behind you by that time.”

 

Steel shifted uncomfortably. “When did you know, Lord Betchem? I did not think you visited my Keep that often.”

 

“You are correct. I found your father …difficult, Caerrovon. He was so many years my junior, yet he seemed totally fixed of purpose, sure of his stance and seemed to cultivate the stance of a greybeard.

         “And in case you know it not, older men used, before the Chiri, to develop grey in their beards and hair, as the Gorens still do. But the same theirs is not, their hair whitens as they mature to adulthood, not great age.”

 

“Some of our older members keep their grey,” Caerrovon chuckled, waving at the village elders, all sitting together against the sun-warmed wall, watching the scene and sharing quiet opinions amongst themselves, with the occasional disaggreement. “They see it as a badge of honour and wisdom.”

 

“Which perchance it is, now and again,” Betchem smiled.

 

Steel took a deep breath and asked, “Was my father as severe as I thought him? I do not want to think of him unjustly, Lord, but I remember him as …”

 

“Lacking in any sense of fun, or even perspective!” Betchem told him without varnish. “It was, my dear Caerrovon, a selfish thing to do, especially to his only son! fair to you it was not, to allow his grief to shade and cool every stone in Steel Keep!

“And I knew you almost all your life, son, and you were underfoot at Betchem much of that time!”

 

“I have always been grateful for your hospitality, Betchem. You and the old Lord Camber, and then my present friend, you saved my sanity and showed me what a real family could be!”

 

“And now you have one of your own!” Betchem smiled at Steel’s alien heirs, playing boisterously with the shrieking children. Then, with his usual abrupt way, “So – are you going to wed Lady Shalla of Trent?”

 

Steel groaned a little. “How do these thing get about?”

 

“Merchants trade more than physical goods and minstrels collect themes for songs, Caerrovon, as you know! My mother used to despair and say that if she went into her bedchamber, locked the doors, shutters and windows, pulled the draperies, put her head beneath her pillow and sneezed, the next day Lady Goren would send her strict instructions on how to heal of her cold, Lady Camber would send a packet of health foods and Lady Laffay would send a basket of flowers for her bedside!

         “And answer me you have not.”

 

“I am growing very fond of Lady Shalla of Trent,” Caerrovon allowed.

 

“Good! Steel has some catching up to do as far as population, Caerrovon!”

 

Steel would have been a little disturbed if such forthright comments about his marriage and issue came from another, but Betchem had the advantage of age, long friendship - and Caerrovon knew him well! – there was no point in being offended at Betchem! He had always been so!

 

 

The band began to play uplifting folk dances, and many of the guests stood and joined in. Lords Betchem and Steel soon took the hands of the more prominent women, and it was a merry time.

 

 _I must do this sort of thing more often!_ Steel thought, watching his sons and friends enjoy themselves. _Take a fright such as all the armies of Betchem at our gates to have a party it should not!_ _Become such a one as my father I **must** not! _

_____And the legal avenues suggested by Mozzie and advanced by Betchem at the House are advancing. Either the Slavers are moving to other areas, outside my jurisdiction and easy access, or there are less of them altogether. New laws are coming. I have not bloodied my sword for two seasons!_

Betchem and Steel walked around the rough dance floor, and Mozzie was now entertaining the children – or being entertained by them!

 

“Now, what do you remember about being cautious about things you are told without solid proof?” he was asking.

 

“An excess of paranoia is impossible, though we may strive towards it?” one small girl asked.

 

“That is indeed true, Jamie,” Mozzie nodded, “and a sensible maxim by which to live, but exactly the quote I was seeking it is not. Anyone else wish to try?”

 

“I know!” another girl, even smaller, with long plaits told him, and when he acknowledged her, she said, in English, “’Be downright suspicious of all things that are right because somebody else (especially somebody much bigger than I) _says_ they are right. So many such things have turned out to be not right.’”

 

“Correct! You are all apt students and brilliant and beautiful children!” Mozzie beamed. “You should go and find your parents and tell them I said so, that they should be proud of you all!” The children laughed, some came up and hugged him, and they all dispersed.

 

“They know Earthling languages, now?” Betchem said, from where he and Steel were watching with amusement mixed with comic dismay, having heard the translation from his ear-bug. “And that last borders on a seditious statement, Caerrovon!”

 

Neal joined them as Steel answered, “Lord Betchem, he says they learn everything so easily at a young age, it broadens their ability to learn for the rest of their lives.

         “And, Lord Betchem, considering your size and mine, and the size of your Keep and mine, that could well become our motto at Steel!”

 

The three chuckled, and Neal said, “I knew not the quotation, but it is found in a book by a man called Doman, my brother tells me, about how babies can learn maths – and to read, also, from very young ages.

         “People have contested the rightness of that, on Earth, saying that is bad for small children to learn, but I could read very young, I taught myself, and Mozzie was reading intellectual tomes and looking into learning higher mathematics when he was younger – more or less, you know the ages are difficult to discern exactly – than little Jamie, there. And he, though…unusual…certainly has an extensive knowledge and finds all learning enjoyable and easy.

         “I was just telling them about Doman, Moz!” Neal added as that man joined them.

 

Mozzie was still grinning from his interactions with the little ones. “Learning saved my sanity when I was tiny, and thankfully I had an insightful guardian! And those who contest the early learning seem to do so on the sole perception that it will be tedious and take away from other learning, such as dance, creativity and loving relationships. Since it can take mere minutes a day, and one never forces learning, nor treats it as anything but a reward and a delight, that is a false premise. They confuse learning with that horror of horrors: _education!_ ”

He cleared his throat a little. “It is true that I have only become slightly better-socialised since I left Earth, and both my brother and I can have the accusation levelled against us that we are naturally anti-social by profession, that was due not to our early education…though the opposite is partially true in our cases. Both of us were isolated by circumstances and learning anything and everything we could was a means of survival.”

 

“And on this planet you find yourself smaller than most people, and are, indeed, more trustworthy and more often right than most of them!” Lord Betchem told him. The huge man made a rueful face and said, “I am glad you forced me to listen to your arguments, Mozzie. At the time I was not, but you were indeed correct, and I thank you.”

 

 

Neal murmured to Mozzie as they left the two Lord Keepers, “However, since we are now better socialised, accepted, loved, we cease to be supremely anti-social, we commit few crimes! Does that indicate that our premature learning _was_ the cause…”

 “Neal, sometimes your reasoning ability seems poor! We still learn! We cannot reverse the vast opening of pathways in our brains, and the joy in learning, can we, that we adopted as children?

         “We take part in less – _less,_ not _no! –_ criminal activity because we are totally independently wealthy, free to purchase anything we want, live anywhere we wish, and move at will, and because we find ourselves in two societies which are themselves less corrupt than the one into which we were born!

         “If you read some of Betchem’s youthful addresses to the Council of the Five Lord-Keepers he held, our going to Goren might be construed as treason within the remaining Alliance Keeps!”

 Neal glanced across. “Oh! So our Lord leaping up on the platform to take on Betchem should he show definite signs of executing me was perfectly justifiable?

         “Anyway,” he shrugged, “it all worked out in the end! And – the Chiri visited Goren and Trent, as well as our Five, and possibly further afield, as well.”

 Mozzie grinned a little at his habitually-positive friend, and answered the latter remark. “No-one in their right mind – including a furious Betchem – would dare alienate (we should come up with a better word, here!) the Chiri! The first time someone’s child was dangerous ill or hurt, especially theirs, they would be begging for their return!”

  _  
_

The townsfolk and farmers gathered left-overs as evening approached and the temperatures dropped, and every family came to exchange thanks with their Lord – they for his generous party, he for their loyal defence of the Keep, however little it had actually been needed. They had come, armed with the most primitive weapons in some cases, to defend their Lord and Keep, when no-one could have known had they evaded this obligation.

 

There remained the clean-up. Diana told Steel to take Lord Betchem to his rooms and rest. If Lord Steel didn’t, the obstinate old Lord would not, and he had been a great help throughout the day.

 

“He is as strong as our largest horse!” Steel told her. “If he wants to help…?”

 “I think it would look better if your slaves looked after this,” Mozzie appeared to add his voice. “He has demeaned himself to help, it has been a great sacrifice for him, now let us give him the respect of his station.”

Steel opened his mouth to ask why they never thought of respecting _his_ station, and saw Mozzie grin. He grinned a little in return. “Yes, yes, I am not the same type of man as Betchem!”

“And you are younger by several generations!” Diana chuckled.

 “And that means you think differently from a man Lord Betchem’s age,” Mozzie pointed out, “not that you deserve less respect! If you ever want proof of our respect, to wash your feet and bring you food and drink when you call, you only have to ask, Caerrovon, and we will do it – not out of subservience, however much our respective stations would require that service, but out of love.”

 Steel huffed a little, embarrassed, but Diana said, firmly, “Exactly! Now go and chat with your honoured guest, my Lord!”

 “Since that is so obviously a recommendation and not an order, I will, Lady Diana!” He gave a little bow and left, chuckling.

 “I think,” Neal said, joining them, having heard most of the exchange, “that we were very fortunate to have been bought, found and rescued by _that_ Lord Keeper!”

 “Truly!” Mozzie nodded. “We might not have survived, else!”

 

 

 

Lord Betchem left with his retinue the day after the next, promising to return.

 

“With an honour-guard merely, Lord Betchem!” Mozzie said, and Lord Betchem hugged him before climbing aboard his horse. Neal turned away to hide a grin. Steel’s smile was wide, but he was touched, too. Most people in the Seven Alliance Keeps loved Neal. He was easy to love. He knew how to be easy to love. It wasn’t a ‘con’, though Steel was sure it could be used to further a con! But Betchem had told him in no uncertain terms that the men he could respect unreservedly and without thought were few.

 “I had the gravest doubts about your apparently foolhardy and impulsive choice, Caerrovon, despite the measure of Laffay gift you possess, thinking that these two, whom I know are criminals and in alien brains and bodies as well, had managed to hide their intentions. Now I wholeheartedly endorse their position here…though I do hope you produce an heir of your body, son! I love you, and wish your blood to rule at Steel!

         “And I hold a special fondness for Mozzie! To come alone to force my hand, not even, as he told me on entering my study, letting you know! His physical size belies an enormous heart…strength and determination as well as love for you.”

 

Steel had nodded, smiling. “His feelings are as deep or deeper than Neal’s, yet he hides behind studied nonchalance. It took me time to see what he felt for me, though I knew his loyalty for his Earth friends from the first.”

 

Betchem had tilted his head. “Good men…and both hurt deeply in their youth.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you rescued them, as you do, and your gift held true. I love my children, each and every one. But they have not forced the Seven to give up their foolish rift…yes, yes, you need not say that Neal and Mozzie forced _me_ to give it up!

         “I am altogether sure that I prefer my children a little more predictable than yours! Mine have not died and returned yet, either!”

 

Steel, his two sons, Joster and Brak, rode a little way with the Betchem contingent, then turned back, waved and returned to Steel.

 

“Could you two,” Steel requested, as they entered the deep, cool shadow beyond the gates, “ _please_ not go and throw fire at any cubbing she-wolves, _please?”_

 

Mozzie chuckled. “We say, ‘poke a bear with a stick’. And I truly merely thought you would get a pretty letter that would make you happy, Caerrovon!”

 

“Betchem is young at heart,” Neal said. “Impulsive and spontaneous…hard to do with a thousand soldiers at your back, but he manages it!”

 

 

The preparations for Neal’s wedding proceeded in a leisurely pace. There was no rush or fuss. He and Litha were supremely sure of their union, and whether the wedding went as planned or whether there was an unseasonable blizzard, a war, a plague or just a series of comical disasters that would make most brides weep, they didn’t care, as long as their Lord married them and a small group of their friends were present. Since neither Lord Steel nor Mozzie had not been behind the scenes at other weddings, they did not realise how unusual this situation was, and most of the slaves conformed with their state of mind.

 

 

Something that was not placid and normal for Neal and Mozzie happened on Earth, and Lord Steel only knew about it after the fact: Mozzie had managed over the months to persuade…even bully, just a little…Neal into creating enough works that he was prepared to sell (with much complaining and panicking till the last moment, when Mozzie ruthlessly slapped prices on the work. Neal was comforted by the fact that the prices were outrageously high. His babies would return home after the showing!)

 

To his mingled dismay and delight – which perhaps only Litha could read accurately! – they sold. Mozzie had invited (as the agent of Neal C. Ellington-Steel, Dante – who needs a second name?) many of the people representing museums and art galleries, for whom Neal had done accurate, authorised replacements, and they had come, interested to see the style of a man for whom the techniques of the any of the great masters seemed second nature.

 

Neal found later that ‘Dante’, leaning unashamedly on the fact that Neal had replaced multi-million-dollar works for the cost of the authentic materials and a few thousand dollars per work, had invited these influential men and women to bring their patrons, especially the rich ones! Similarly, as Neal’s agent and manager, he had access to all the folks who had sought Neal’s services in their private capacities, who had owned great masterpieces and had paid him to replace them after the wars.

 

Mozzie knew that they appreciated Neal’s work as a forger – (scrap that! Revivist?) – and they proved it by attending in force, with their friends who had not been previously aware that the works hanging on their walls were not the original Picasso’s, Monet’s, Rembrandt’s, Turner’s – and on and on the list went. Some people were exchanging loud stories with others about their own precious paintings that Neal had resurrected from a fiery end!

 

It was a chaotically crowded scene! Not surprisingly, champagne and wine flowed freely, decadent chocolate delicacies from the House of Cakes, newly reopened, were carried around by elegant serving staff who themselves were better dressed than many of the guests. After all, Neal’s manager was no fool! - carbs calmed people, the theobromine in chocolate gave them a feeling of well-being, and no-one understood better that – for other humans! – alcohol reduces inhibitions, and increases the tendency to out-do another buyer. In fact, lively if completely unorthodox auctions broke out in several parts of the gallery! Only the elegance of the surroundings, and a few strategically-situated tuxedoed thugs repressed what threatened to become physical altercations between more vehement devotees!

 

Neal was stunned. He was greeted enthusiastically by a glittering array of luminaries from the world of art and finance. Many delighted in telling them how they had fooled their friends and relatives with his work! He was hugged and kissed and his hand soon felt squashed with wringing! About a fifth of the crowd had flown in from exotic locales (there were many billions of dollars worth of private jets circling the air-space of New York before the opening!), for, as Dante had pointed out, Ellington-Steel would only have a first show once!   (Oh course, Neal could always have another first show with another alias, and a good disguise. Mozzie was always alive to future opportunities!)

 

Italians waved their hands, Texans waved sheafs of actual cash, Germans scowled at competitors, the English looked down their thin noses at the rabble.

 

 

Mozzie’s presence was more felt than seen, but Neal did manage to have a few accusing words with him… “Mozzie! This sounds like the Slave Market!”

 

“Going well, isn’t it?” Mozzie agreed, touched his nose in a gesture lost on the confused artist, and disappeared. Being shorter than many people, even on Earth, allowed him to move through crowds without them recognising who this figure was, head down and making his way past them.

 

Litha, told by Neal that it was likely to be a boring and embarrassing evening he’d rather she didn’t witness, was at home with her parents, who wanted to spend more time with her before she officially became a Steel Keeper. June, therefore, was on Neal’s arm, and was bubbling with amusement.

 

“June, this is commercialism at its worst!” Neal exclaimed, horrified, when they had a short moment alone.

 

“Are you telling me, dear Neal, that artists starving in garrets produce purer work than artists who actually become well-known and well-paid for their time and talent during their lifetimes, few as they are?”

 

Neal looked at her and grinned. “This feels like the biggest con yet, June!”

 

“Your heists of famous pieces, where you replaced them with your own,” June murmured for his ears only, “worked for exactly the same reason: your work was exceptional. Now you are being paid for work with your own signature on it.

         “And though I am sure he will tire of such aboveboard commerce, Mozzie is enjoying himself hugely!”

 

“Yes, I noticed that! That is partly why it feels so much like a con!”

 

“Neal!” called a familiar voice, as if on cue, and Peter forced his way through the mêlée, making a path for El. They were both dressed for the occasion. Peter was wearing a very nice tuxedo, El was in a floor-length blue gown with spangles round the neck and sapphires dangling from her ear-lobes.

 

“How did Mozzie get you two here?” Neal grinned, hugging each of them. It still felt a little jarring, but there was some real affection there, again. The old wounds were healed, but some scarring sadly remained.

 

“He couldn’t keep us away…though I am sure he tried, we don’t have the deep pockets of your other admirers!” Peter chuckled. “To him, I believe, we are a waste of floor-space and oxygen!”

 

“I heard about this through my contacts, Neal,” El told him, “long before our invitation arrived!”

 

“A show of your own work, all signed by you!” Peter said, looking around. “Incredible! I _had_ to see it!”

 

“Yes,” Neal nodded. He was absurdly shy of this attention.

 

Peter turned, saw the look and cocked his head on one side. “Ah! I see!” he said, amused, pursing his bow-lips a little. “No masks! Nothing to hide behind!”

 

Neal met his eyes, and acknowledged the shrewdness of the comment. “I hadn’t realised, but that’s exactly what it feels like! Like those dreams where you find yourself naked in public!”

 

“As though _that_ would worry you!” Peter joked. Then, “You shouldn’t feel that way, Neal.”

 

Peter and El were suddenly very serious. “It’s about time you got to do this!” El said.

 

“You deserve to hear people exchanging compliments on your work, on your level of talent,” agreed Peter. “You see? You didn’t need to commit crimes, you could have been a successful artist all along!”

 

El encountered Neal’s eyes and they grinned at each other. “Peter,” Neal tried to explain, “this is not a standard first showing of an artist’s work! If I hadn’t forged, if I hadn’t copied, if I hadn’t been working with and for the elite and with the works of masters for many years, there would be you two, June, perhaps Clinton and Emily if someone had bribed them, and a few drunks looking for a warm place out of the wind!”

 

“ _And_ if Mozzie wasn’t a manipulator of men and women par excellence!” added June. “But, Neal, that still doesn’t mean that your work doesn’t deserve this level of approbation from experts! It just means that the art world is hell to break into for normal people!”

 

Diana and Tammy arrived, having circled the place - not without a great deal of pushing and shoving, and Tammy telling Diana the Sheel equivalent of “Don’t deck anyone, Love!” They took turns hugging Neal, and Diana said in her lovely voice, simply and without any of the sarcasm that had abraded Neal’s soul when they first worked together, “You are an extremely talented painter, Caffrey. I am proud to know you.”

 

“…and have kept you out of prison to pursue your artistic profession!” Neal smiled at her.

 

“I did, didn’t I?” Diana chuckled. “I have done my part for beauty on this planet!”

 

“You were born, that was sufficient to do that!” Tammy murmured, and Diana flushed a little.

 

“Hey! We all had a part in keeping you out of prison at times!” Peter argued, not having his ear-bug and not understanding the last remark.

 

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” Neal laughed. “So you like them all, Di?”

 

“No,” Diana said. “There are some I really don’t like, wouldn’t have hanging on my wall. But I still see the brilliant technique, I appreciate them. It would be a lie, and an insult, I believe, to say I liked them all!” El nodded.

 

At that point Lil Summerfield-Smythe arrived to congratulate Neal and, apart from June, the others backed away to allow the venerable lady space to chat with the artist who had ‘saved’ her Turners.

 

 

Eventually, it was just Neal, the serving people, the well-dressed bouncers and Mozzie. Neal had Peter and El take June home after one o’clock, and he was sure the party would still have been lively and noisy if he hadn’t put a stop to the arrival of more food and drink. Each and every piece had been sold, some for treble the asking price (though Peter was heard to speculate that taxes would only be paid on the latter, and June had tried to explain that Offshore Companies were alive and well after the Alien Wars.)

 

“Thank you, Mozzie!” Neal said. “I do not know – I do not _want_ to know! – how you did all that!”

 

“Happy, Neal?” asked Mozzie, glancing across with a smile as Sally came to collect them.

 

“I think I am happy, though my feet are very sore from standing on this hard floor, so it is somewhat difficult to tell! And – and I still regret selling them,” he groaned a little, looking at all the SOLD stickers carefully places across corners of frames.

 

“But admit it, it is a proven fact…people really, truly like your work – and are prepared to pay very well for it!”

 

“Not as well as they paid for my Rembrandt’s and Monet’s – and that - ”

 

“You can _not_ use that comparison!” Mozzie said, vehemently. “The money has a far greater value now! In fact, taking that into consideration…!”

 

“No, no, I will not argue with you, not now! My brain is fuzzy! I want to go home and sleep!”

 

Mozzie relaxed, smiled and agreed. “Me, too, mon frère! And you will sleep, since it is day at Laffaysham and Litha will be busy there!”

 

“Come, you two! Who has to lock up the place?” Sally demanded. Then she glanced around the room and smiled lop-sidedly. “You can tell the party’s gone well when the wives have to come and get their husbands!”

 

“Wife?” Neal asked, all innocence, which his friends ignored.

 

“These strong men are part of the gallery’s security, and take over from here,” Mozzie said, waving at a large, ginger-bearded man, who nodded and came to lock the place down behind them.

 

“Good. Let us go home,” Sal said. “Now the next excitement, I presume, will be the Marriage of the Heir of Steel, Neal Caffrey Ellington-Steel to one beautiful maiden of Laffaysham, Aramalitha!”

 

 

 

 

 

 The End of Chapter 3

 

With deep gratitude to all my reader and those who take the time and make the effort to comment.

 

 

 

 


	4. This time the Gathering is at Steel...!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A larger crowd than Neal wants or anticipated converges on Steel Keep.

 

 

 

Spring had come to Steel. The flowers were blooming enthusiastically, as they are wont to do when they have but a limited appearance on the stage! Their fragrance wafted around the Keep, and children collected posies for their mothers.

 

“I am glad we decided to marry in the spring!” Litha said, as they walked between the flowering bushes. “I am used to the more gentle climate of Laffay, and Steel is beautiful like this.”

 

“I feel the cold a great deal, coming from Earth,” Neal admitted, “but I love the winter, also…the fires and gathering with loved ones on a stormy night, or with a book…and, when the sun is bright on the frosty snow, I love the way a horse feels under me, they so enjoy galloping along, leaping the drifts! But I need the coldest weather gear, and sometimes my father teases me!”

 

“One can have a fire and gather with friends on nights that are less severe!” Litha told him decidedly, and he laughed.

 

After a few moments of stepping between the flowers, leaning down here or there to enjoy a scent or draw the other’s attention to a particularly beautifully painted throat, he stood and made a face. “One advantage of having the wedding in the winter…it would have been a small wedding! No-one likes to travel too far from home with a family in case the winds shift suddenly, and the weather becomes dangerous. As it is, this is going to be a large gathering, and I wanted it to be intimate, just your family and mine and a few close friends.

“Our betrothal at Betchem was witnessed by a crowd. I hoped for something different for our wedding.”

 

 _“That_ snow has melted, indeed!” Litha told him. “Oh, look, is Joster beckoning to you?”

 

They made their way over and Joster said, “Lord Steel seeks your company, Neal and Litha, and Susan asked me to tell you, Lady Litha, that she has sewn the ribbons and wishes your advice and approval.”

 

“We will go to my Lord first, then,” Neal nodded, and the three of them walked swiftly down the stone corridors, still cool. They reached Steel’s study and he waved them in. Neal couldn’t read his expression, but the issue was soon shared.

 

“His Highness, Prince Ferion has answered our invitation – sent as a mere formality, son, he has never visited here in his life! – and he has deigned to attend our function!”

 

“Oh?” asked Neal, not much alarmed. “But he is the younger Prince, and the King is not coming, is he?”

 

“No, but Lucilla is now frantic to make the Royal Suite ready and perfect! I have never hosted any member of the Royal Family, Neal!”

 

“He is coming to a wedding, my Lord, that is all. It is a compliment, is it not?”

 

“I hope so!” Steel said, dubiously. “He may have heard of your odd activities…or mine!”

 

“Then we will treat him to a party such as we gave the Military!” Neal chuckled.

 

Steel looked even more startled. “I pray you will do no such thing, Neal! And instruct Mozzie of my wishes, also. We can never do such a thing again, let alone to the _Prince!”_

 

Neal pulled up his mouth and said, “Oh, well – it certainly would look odd if the groom was also the butler, would it not?”

 

“It would!”

 

“I fear we are becoming too formal and normal, my father!”

 

“I think so also!” Litha nodded.

 

“Can we all at least pretend to be _normal_ – even bland and dull and pompous? – for the duration of His Highness’ visit?” Steel implored.

 

Neal gazed into Litha’s bright eyes and asked, “ _Can_ you do a convincing imitation of Lady Camber, my love, do you think?”

 

Steel groaned. “She is a very worthy lady! There is no need to speak of her so!”

 

“Of that there is no doubt!” Neal agreed readily. “It must be comforting to Lord Camber when members of the royalty visit his Keep.”

 

“Worry not at all, my Lord!” Litha told him, seeing that he was truly concerned about the behaviour – and therefore possibly the safety – of his off-world sons, who had turned out far more …innovative, inventive? …than he could have imagined! “We will be so busy, and we want to show off our lovely Steel Keep to her best advantage!”

 

“Neal was busy – so was Mozzie – with the mid-winter celebration,” Steel told her, feelingly, “and that was far from comforting to me!”

 

“Yes, but care how we made _Betchem_ look we did not!” Neal grinned. “No, no, my Lord, we will be courteous and polite and mannerly in his august presence, and then retire to our bedchamber for the duration of his visit!”

 

Litha giggled.

 

Steel sighed.

 

 

 

The day drew near. Ophera and her staff had stuffed food into every cool place in the Keep, dreading the possibility of running short! More acknowledgements and acceptances arrived for Lord Steel, and there was a small mountain of them. Brak was trying to keep them sorted, and Mozzie took over, to his relief.

 

“What am I supposed to give Neal and Litha?” Steel demanded of his shorter son.

 

Mozzie glanced up. “Your blessing and your love, Caerrovon! You are hosting this, you have provided them – and us – with a home – clothes – our signet rings – nothing more is necessary, certainly.”

 

“But he likes to give gifts!”

 

“He does! But between you two, the familial love and trust would make anything else pale, Caerrovon. Truly.”

 

“Are not you and Sally giving them gifts?”

 

“I have something special for Neal…a little lamp he has always loved. It is from Earth. But, Caerrovon, he needs nothing from us more than we give him now. I just happened to know of this statue. I was slow to reach him when it was up for sale when he was first released into the FBI’s custody, so I have …acquired it for him. If I knew not of this pretty token, worry I would not. I will smile, he will smile, it is all we need from each other unless there is a special project.”

 

“I feel that it is wrong in me, not to have something to give them.”

 

“Do not, Caerrovon,” Mozzie said, casually, stacking papers.

 

Mozzie had never been particularly good with the odd emotions of other humans, but he was learning! Within an hour, Steel found Neal standing next to the stall to which he had escaped, feeling that this marriage ceremony was becoming overwhelming for a single male Lord Keeper! He should have accepted, on Neal and Litha’s behalf, Betchem’s kind offer to hold it there! Steel stood, alarmed at Neal’s stillness. He came out of the stall, patting the glossy rump of his favourite stallion in passing.

 

“What is toward? What has happened, Neal.”

 

“I discover a flaw in my Brethsham father,” Neal said, so solemnly that it took Steel a moment to understand him.

 

“What!” demanded Steel.

 

“He is ridiculous, my Lord!

         “Lord, you have given me everything, yet you ask Mozzie what wedding gift you should give me? You have given me a life, a home, a family – wealth greater than any I could imagine, though that is not important. You have cemented my bond with Mozzie…all of this I have told you previously, or tried to! Have you understood me not, my dear Lord?”

 

“Yes, but Neal…”

 

“Allow me to have my wedding here, and take the time of your slaves and the money from your coffers to do it…oh, that _is_ what is happening! Give me a wonderful chance at an education – hmm, I think _that_ has been done, also. Give me a suite of rooms for my bride and me…oh, you _already_ did that! Give me a beautiful steed or two – oh, no I have _those_ already! Give me an open invitation to have any of my friends, from Earth or Brethsham here – no, that, too you have extended.” Neal scowled a little.

 

“But you gave the Trents that quite gorgeous vase…you gave Litha a love-chain…”

 

“Then give me a love chain – oh, you did that _first of all!”_

 

Steel grinned. “That was your slave collar!”

 

“To me it was not, Lord, at least very soon after you gave it to me. Now, can I ask you to stop thinking about this? I have given you so very little!”

 

“To me, it is not, Neal,” Steel copied him, and then hugged his son. “I would love to have something special for you, that is all.”

 

Neal, hugging back, said, “Then you should not have been so generous already! Think of aught else I can not, truly, my Lord. Just continue to love me.”

 

“I believe that I can do that for you, Neal.”

 

 

 

Steel Keep went from being somewhat on the bare and plain side to being hung about with banners of all the Alliance Keeps as well as royal hangings and tapestries. Gifts from past Kings to Lords of Steel were on prominent display. Lucilla draped fabrics, as they had at the fake announcement of Steel’s child, in the colours of Steel, where there was a bare corner. Vases, ready for flowers, were placed in alcoves bare of a statuette or portrait. Clothing was checked and checked again. Ophera continued to count pies and bake pastries and sort wines!

 

 

Then Steel found Neal and Litha, sitting rather wearily behind the stables, having left the questioning and demands of slaves intent on thinking of anything and everything they may enjoy at the ceremony.

 

“My Lord!” Neal said, seeing Caerrovon’s face. “Now it seems there may be something wrong with _you!”_

“No. To tell you the truth, it is a lovely letter from Shalla!” He continued to stand, dithering.

 

“Then why the face…? Um – then why, my Lord, is the emotion you show us not unalloyed joy?”

 

“Um…” the two waited, and then Steel said, “She has asked if, since we will have representatives of all the Keeps – all Seven! – if – that is - ”

 

Neal leapt up in delight. “You are getting betrothed to Lady Shalla of Trent!”

 

“That is what she wishes.…”

 

“And you do not wish this…no, what is this confusion, my Lord?” queried Litha.

 

“I do wish it. I had even thought of this, we have grown very close…but I do not wish to draw attention from the wedding of my son; it seems very selfish!”

 

Neal and Litha _both_ hugged him. “If you are sure she is the woman for you, my Lord, we would be greatly delighted to share the wonderful day with your Lady and you, Father!” Litha said. “Oh – you _do_ feel that!”

 

“And,” Neal added, ingenuously, “there is less chance of the poor males involved of forgetting the date of a double anniversary!”

 

Steel grinned as brightly as Neal ever did, and went off to tell Lucilla that they needed more Trent hangings!

 

“Now – what can we give our Lord as an engagement present?” Neal chuckled.

 

 

The next day Neal came into the corridor nearest the kitchens at the same time as a group arrived from the stables, and watched as the young man striding along in front saw his Lord and shouted joyfully, “Caerrovon! We have arrived!”

 

Lord Steel broke into a run and they embraced, laughing. Neal watched, smiling at their delight. Lord Steel’s friend was shorter than he, his hair a darker blond. He wore Steel colours and Neal realised: this was Jarad! This was the group from Sea Keep!

 

Soon enough Steel noticed him and called him over and he found himself face to face with Jarad, who grinned his cheeky grin and said, “So _this_ is the man you have chosen to supplant me as heir, Steel!”

 

Neal grinned back, thinking that Jarad was possibly the most handsome man he’d ever seen. “No, Jarad of Sea Keep! That would be my brother, Mozzie! I am, as you are: a backup, merely!”

 

“This is my wife,”Jarad said, stepping aside and allowing that smiling woman to come forward. She was noticeably pregnant and had a lovely pair of grey eyes.

 

Steel hugged her, saying, “I am sorry, Mirelle, when Jarad and I meet again, everything else goes out of our heads! How are doing, dear?”

 

“Very well, though Jarad thought to keep me at home because he felt I would eat Steel Keep out of all the celebration food, Caerrovon!”

 

Neal chuckled. “I think that might be a good thing, my Lady! Ophera has prepared so much, we will be eating it for the next four-seasons, else!”

 

Mirelle smiled at him, and squeezed his arm. “I shall do my best to oblige, Master Steel!”

 

“Neal, please! I am well aware – having been told so by almost everyone I meet – that I am still merely a child by your standards!”

 

“Then call me Mirelle!” she insisted. “Though ‘Master Neal of Steel’ would be used from birth, had you been born here! But these formal manners differ from where I grew! That is why Jarad and I hide away at our outpost, Sea, far from politics and formality, where we can go barefoot on many days of the year, and do! You have not visited, and we wondered why, Neal!”

 

“Oh, I have shown you some – just some! – of Caerrovon’s letters, Mirelle! Neal has busied himself amazingly with Brethsham politics! _He_ is not shy of them!”

 

“That was a singular event, Jarad, I assure you! I think your Keep sounds perfect for me!”

 

“I told you both, I intend to bring Neal to visit as soon as possible after we get rid of the last guest, since the passes are clear!”

 

“They were when we came through, it was a lovely ride, though it is still a little early to be sure of them staying that way, remember!” Jarad warned.

 

“I know! I would not take Earthlings into such a place unless I was sure of the weather. Neal is often bundled up in furs before the lakes are safe to skate…though they are never very safe for him!”

 

“Do not be mean to me, my Lord,” Neal pouted a little. He explained to their guests, “Earth – my original home – is warmer than Brethsham and though I know many useful skills, I am afraid skating is not amongst my accomplishments, though I can now remain upright much of the time!”

 

“I skate not at all, and at Sea we do not need that skill, Neal!” Mirelle said, gaily.

 

“I think Sea Keep sounds perfect for me, indeed!”

 

Neal turned and Litha was approaching. “Darling! Come and meet one of our Lord’s oldest boyhood friends!”

 

“She is lovely,” Mirelle murmured.

 

“Thank you, my Lady!” Litha said, making Mirelle look a little surprised until she smiled and said,

         “Ah – you are Laffay!”

 

“Yes, I am, and you did not protect your thoughts, so I felt they were not secret, and I like compliments!” Litha said, naively. “I have had to learn to restrain myself from accessing the feelings of others. At Laffaysham it is very obvious when this person or that is deliberately being private, all others are willing to share. But of course non-Laffay persons do not expect to have to shield their inner lives, and often do so poorly.”

 

“Litha – originally Aramalitha of Laffaysham – is my new daughter,” Steel said, after making the introductions, putting his arm round her shoulders. “She is Laffay and full Laffay, and very powerful.

____“Come, you must be famished and dusty from the ride! Your suite is all ready and waiting, but I warn you, there are more people here than I ever remember, and many more arriving before the ceremony.”

 

“I wanted a small gathering, Jarad!” Neal mourned again. “I should have had it in mid-winter!”

 

“Or come to Sea to be wed!” Jarad told him. “The rest dislike the treacherous mountain passes amazingly! It is wonderful!”

 

 

The Trents arrived and they, along with Lord Steel, Jarad and Mirelle, Neal and Litha, Ethlan and Floretha once they arrived, and sometimes Mozzie and Sally, took every opportunity to escape the bustling crowds and, with a few personal servants, enjoy a party of young people, laughing and joking and talking without any of the formality that Mirelle disliked! Neal and Mozzie had never seen their Lord so light-hearted!

 

“You must make him come to Sea more often,” Jarad said confidentially to Neal. “He works too hard and he…um…”

 

“His hobby takes up less time than in former days, Jarad,” Neal  returned in kind, and Jarad’s eyebrows lifted a little. “Yes, he has shared all of that with me, and how you both came to know Lira. You were very brave and idealistic, Jarad! But there are in place legal avenues that have brought some easing of the terrible situation, and also it seems that most Slave-catchers have decamped for safer locales where the thirsty Sword of Steel cannot reach them!”

 

“Good!” Jarad said, with decision. “I felt a little as though I was betraying Caerrovon when I married and he insisted I stop risking my life.”

 

“Hmm….” Neal answered, and they both looked across to where Lord Steel and Joster were showing off a few sword tricks to the Trents, Litha and Mirelle. “I wonder if, when he is wed, he will desist if he believes the need arises.”

 

“A poor probability, I think. Perhaps if he has youngsters at his feet!” Jarad suggested. “Do you fight?”

 

“My lack of inches and reach is something of a hindrance, Jarad, if fighting a well-trained man or larger woman. I also, sadly, dislike hurting and killing even evil folks, though I have done these things.”

 

Jarad turned and looked him in the eye. “You have made my friend very happy, Neal. He loves you, and your brother. I meant no censure if you do not do things you are less able to do – you have accomplished so much for Steel, and he did not adopt you for what you could do for him, after all, other than perhaps guarding the Keep should some accident befall him, any more than he bought me for what I could do for him…he thinks of how he can help others!

_____“I do not know if he told you that he consulted me before ‘supplanting me’ as the heir…he knows I would be most loathe to leave Sea, and so would Mirelle…and we would dislike having to be Lord and Lady Steel _staggeringly!”_

 

Neal hesitated a moment. “At one time I would have agreed with you, on behalf of both Mozzie and myself and our womenfolk! Yet I have seen a different side of my friend and brother, and I think if he had to, he would fill the position of Keeper very well. Many see only his small physical stature, which is even more noticeable here than on our original homeworld, but any who have figuratively crossed swords with Mozzie have had to immediately re-evaluate his consequence!

“And, if such a catastrophe occurred that it fell to Litha and I to take up the responsibility, we would do a perfectly adequate job of it, once the grief had worn away, at all events. I cannot imagine how devastating it would be, for I love my family greatly, you understand.”

 

“For the same reasons I am most glad to hear that he takes on less of the honourless rabble that steal people from their homes and lives…as happened to you.”

 

“Yes, that was a terrible ordeal…but look at what I have gained!” Neal and Jarad smiled at each other, and Neal felt relief. He had seen Jarad in his Lord’s heart when they shared memories, how important they were to each other, and it would have been sad if he and Jarad could not have become friends.

 

 _And_  Neal surprised himself by thinking _if I ever have to be Lord Keeper of Steel, or share that honour with Moz, it would be much more difficult if Jarad and I were at odds._

 

 

Neal sometimes had the feeling that the entire Castle Keep was bulging! He could easily imagine an animated cartoon of it! Every one of the Seven Keeps were represented: the Laffay’s, of course, Barstellon being absent, but otherwise in large numbers, Lord Betchem had brought more of his family than Neal had yet seen – though many of the younger members slept in tents in the fields and reminded Diana of a giant summer camp! – they certainly outnumbered the Gorenmen, who came quietly in small numbers and seemed a little startled and amused at the bustle. Many tents from Steel Keep were also being erected for visiting families from the city surrounding Steel, and some of the lesser nobilility - such as Tremalshal -  had sent men to pitch their own very luxurious tents so they could spent the night if they chose.

         Then there were the Trents, a larger group, looking to witness the betrothal of one of their ‘princesses’, Lord Camber’s close family and a rather large group of Sunderites, including Jebb, who, when he saw Neal, hailed him as he would a long lost brother!

_____Some of the merchants who did business with Steel but lived farther afield had brought their families, and a great many of the local farmers and businessmen and all of Steel's tenants would attend in addition to the nobility and their servants!

 

 

Then at last the eve of the wedding arrived, and a runner came, causing a heightened excitement that ran through most of the inhabitants of Steel Keep…

 

“His Highness is coming! His royal carriage approaches!” was hissed from room to room, and all hurried to make themselves presentable.

 

Joster and Merritt tried their hardest to instil in Mozzie and Neal the need for a perfect turnout, which the two found hard to understand.

         “Joster! He is arriving and yes, we must greet him, but surely he realises the King’s subjects live quite normal lives, not dressed up, except for special occasions?” Neal complained.

 

“You are representing Steel Keep!” Joster insisted, fussing.

 

Merritt, who had spent more quiet time with Neal, used different reasoning. “You are not supposed to be the perfect subjects of the King, Neal, Mozzie, dressed as though you do nothing but wait for a member of the Royalty to appear…you are _pretending_ to be the perfect subjects, always ready in case they appear!”

 

Mozzie grinned a little and Neal’s expression lost its irritation and hardness and he shrugged. “I can always run a con! I just wish it had a better hope of a large reward! Go ahead, Merritt – sneaky Merritt! - we will play our parts!”

 

So the Family Steel was waiting when the gilt second Royal Carriage, drawn by eight perfectly matched white horses and surrounded by outriders that looked elegant but had the eyes and wrists of dangerous warriors, pulled up at the front doors. Two footmen jumped down, and Neal was reminded forcibly of prettily illustrated children’s stories: Cinderella, mostly. However, the young man who alighted was rather thin and certainly too ugly to fit the usual image of a ‘Prince Charming’.

 

However, he advanced on the party with a smile, and took Lord Steel’s hand, and allowed him to introduce his two sons… and then a good many of the guests standing waiting, more or less in order of rank and seniority, other than the Steel’s, who were the official hosts!

 

Neal, finding this all tedious, glanced back at is betrothed and _felt_ at her, “We should have eloped! You were right! We could have hidden at Sea Keep till the furore had died down!” She grinned a little.

 

 

 

Neal shooed Joster and Merritt out of his room. Mozzie, lounging in the big armchair, smiled at him quizzically, knowing without words that he wanted this time alone with his oldest friend.

         “Are you sure you’re really ready for marriage, Neal?” he asked.

 

“Moz, I am so happy!” Neal smiled back, his eyes sparkling from within.

 

“That, as many will attest, is not actually an answer, but it will suffice!

         “You looked sober, earlier. Not ‘without mind-altering drugs’ sober…if anyone in love can actually fulfil that criterion!...just sombre, pensive. I didn’t want to ask what you were thinking with the boys here.”

 

“Your cynicism is showing signs of wear and tear, Moz, that was merely an automatic response! …you’re deeply in love with Sally, whatever you two want to call it!

_____“I was just thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong, all the ways I might have been diverted from this moment. So often our destiny hangs by the finest of threads, does it not? I am sure you have a quotation that expresses it better.”

 

Mozzie looked down, eschewed the quotation and nodded. “ _Our_ destinies, especially!

_____“Yes, you could have been bought by a terrible fiend, as Diana was.

         “You could have died in New York in the Alien Wars.

         “The Suit could have put you in prison…oh, for any number of reasons, but the gold coins and Hagen spring to mind!

         “Collins could have hit an artery.

_____“Rebecca could have misjudged the wind.

         “Adler could have pulled the trigger a second before the Suit.

         “You could have joined Kate on the plane.

         “You could have died of blood poisoning in the janitors’ closet before I found you.

         “Your jump from the flagpole onto the balcony in Rome could have been a half-an-inch shy of the edge – as it was, you barely made that!

         “Yes, Neal, my friend, there are many ways your marriage, even your meeting with Litha would have been avoided.”

 

Neal grinned. “I could have died of the measles when I was a baby! A meteorite could have killed me in my crib!”

 

Mozzie tilted his head. “I was merely speaking of a very few of the Caffrey brushes with death I personally have recorded!”

 

“I know.”

 

“And yet – here we are! Here you are, all gussied up in your Brethsham finery, which – and don’t take violent exception to this remark – I think suits you better than most of Byron’s suits! - and out there,” he flicked his hand vaguely, “is waiting your intelligent, gifted and charming bride.

         “Somehow,  though, I do not think our destinies are that frail, mon frère! I think you were both meant to be here. Not that something could not have gone awry, but I think your guardian angels were working to get you here.”

 

“I should light a candle or something!”

 

“Be happy. I think that is their greatest reward!”

 

“And you and Sal?”

 

“You know, we argue over the details of unsolved maths problems and computers and genetics, chess strategies, how conscious are rocks and whether there are 42 dimensions or 43,  the ideal structure of water and the factors that affect it. We seem not to have to argue over our relationship. Somehow, she gives me respect, somehow, I show her I love her and value her…and that is what men and women want, you know.”

 

“So _that_ question has been solved!”

 

“Yes. Litha wants to know you love her and value her…and because of her strong empathy, she will never doubt that, so you are off the hook, my friend! Most men get themselves in trouble because they try and explain to their women their logical thinking about a matter, when a woman wants to be heard, and understood, and valued.”

 

“People always took you for a…well, unsociable type, Moz. _I_ did. I knew _we_ were friends, you had Hale and later Alex, but…and then you and June became fast friends so easily.” He shrugged a little. “ _I’ve_ been the one who can’t make, or keep friends - other than you! – till I came here.”

 

“Oh, Alex loves you still, Neal. June, Diana and even the Suit.”

 

Neal smiled, shifting his shoulders. To Mozzie, Diana was now Diana. Somehow, Peter had never outgrown being ‘The Suit’ for long. But he disagreed: “Diana and I only became fast friends here, though she was becoming more loyal to me through our years together.”

 

There was a pause, and Mozzie asked, “How did you convince the Laffays to let you have your wedding here, anyway?”

 

“One of the joys of being heir to a Keep! I just said I’d prefer it, if they didn’t object.”

 

“They would have given you a wonderful party! You used to revel in parties!”

 

Neal scratched his nose. “Perhaps I’ve grown up! I know they’ll throw a whizz-bang dance when we visit there after our honeymoon, and it will probably be fun, but I want my first memories of my marriage to be here, at Steel, in our lovely suite, with my closest family and friends.”

 

“Dull, the old Neal would have said! And the group is rather larger than that!”

 

The door opened and Lord Steel walked in, unannounced, as was their usual custom when in private, though they were all being more formal with the array of honoured guests visiting. He heard what Mozzie said, and gave an exaggerated, comical start. “Dull! No! Please! I know to what extremes you two can go to alleviate boredom!”

 

Neal grinned up at him, not even thinking of standing. Steel fell into a chair and said, “How Betchem managed with all his children, I know not! Though he says he only bothered with the first two or three, and merely attended the others’ ceremonies as a guest!”

 

“You are saying that I should have taken the – less boring – option of having this ‘do’ at Laffaysham?” Neal demanded.

 

“Yes!” Steel grinned at him. “No, son, I understand your reasoning, and it _is_ fun…the first event I have hosted with representatives of all the Keeps, ever! I never even had the Five together here!”

 

“The Famous Five becomes the Secret Seven,” murmured Mozzie, and Neal’s eyebrows jumped, but he let it go. Mozzie’s surprising reading matter was only going to cloud the issue with his Brethsham father.

 

“I thought that feel forced to come they would not!” Neal complained. “I thought we had got all the fuss out of the way having the engagement at Betchem! I thought the invitations were merely a formality, a politeness, and that they would gently refuse and we could have a small wedding with just Steel Keepers and perhaps Lord and Lady Betchem, Ethlan and the Cambers, your special friends – and Lord and Lady Laffay and a small contingent from Laffaysham.

         “Instead, it is Bedlam out there…sorry, it is like an institution where they put people who are mentally unstable in our corridors and halls, my Lord! I am sorry!”

 

“You have expressed your wishes often, son. Still, it gave a perfect opportunity for our betrothal…” A little earlier, before dressing for this ceremony, the Lord of Steel and Lady Shalla of Trent had plighted their troth in a ceremony even simpler than Neal and Litha’s. Betchem, Leran and Brak had stood in for Steel‘s father, Neal and Mozzie represented his family, and of course Lord and Lady Trent stood for Shalla. His Highness attended and seemed willing to be pleased. The lady was obviously happy and in love, and Neal was devoutly thankful that Mozzie had meddled, and Betchem was a decent man! He would have hated him not to be here for his Lord, and would have truly regretted _his_ meddling!

 

Steel’s grin widened. “All of this interest is entirely the fault of my two adopted heirs! You have turned our area of the planet on its head: solved murders, removed dangerous alien species – other than Earthlings! – from our Keeps, started what looks to be a regular mid-winter festival with strange foods, especially for slaves – the other Keepers were arguing who would host it next, over our wine the other evening, and I think Camber won! – and re-unified the Alliance of the Mighty Seven Keeps.

         “I am not sure if the multitudes are here to honour your contribution, you two, to see what stunts you will pull today, or just to make sure they stay on – what do you Earthlings call it – your well side? – so that they are safe from your antics!”

 

“’Good side’,” Neal corrected, and laughed. “I did warn you, back at the Slave Market, my Lord!”

 

“I was lulled into a state of complacency by all the nice, calm, obedient slaves I had purchased previous to meeting you! - and I realised not the extent of your mischief, nor the scope of your plans! Nor how many of your gang were about to precipitously enter my life!

         “Which is why I become extremely nervous when I hear that you are bored!”

 

“Would you have left him there, if your gifts included the ability to see the future?” Mozzie smiled.

 

“No!” Steel groaned. “I am becoming used to exciting things happening!

         “Other than you dying, Neal. Speak to you if you ever try that again I will not!”

 

“And you love us!” Neal said teasingly, his head a little on one side.

 

Steel looked at them and nodded and shrugged. “True. Lady Camber has been at the House a great deal. I am sure she is researching the records of old to ascertain whether there is any insanity in my bloodlines!”

 

“She _is_ a little conventional,” Neal agreed.

 

“Most Brethshamen think her sensible and placid, Neal! They would think you the exact opposite!”

 

The three sat in companionable silence. Then the Lord remarked, “I did not think to host a representative of the King, however! Steel Keep has been of dwindling size and importance since before my father’s time…now we have His Royal Highness ensconced in the Royal suite!”

 

“He seems nice,” Neal remarked, and yawned.

 

“You are supposed to be honoured and over-awed,” his father told him, amused.

 

“No. I was a prince, once, for an evening,” Neal told him, which apparently was intended to explain his lack of reverence for the said worthy.

 

Mozzie sat up a little, and made a face. “You were _supposed_ to access the plans and open the window for Alex and myself…instead, you used your time to dally…I will put it no lower…with the cousin of the prince, a blonde confection just out of the schoolroom!”

 

Steel closed his eyes.

 

Neal defended himself, “Long out of the schoolroom _I_  was not! Well, I was, but had I _finished_ school, I would have not been! And trust me, the innocent thing she looked she was _not!_ And she was quite well aware that I had drugged her cousin and taken his place. They were childhood friends. And you complain, but she gave me half her jewelcase – that ruby and tourmaline suite of great worth and even greater ugliness, black pearls she said were unlucky for her, that solid gold set? Come on! Oh, and several first editions of great poets and writers, signed and in near perfect condition that she had been forced to read and stigmatised as too tedious for words! She was glad to part with them, the lovely green stones deserved new and beautiful settings, and you and Alex were perfectly safe.

         “And I enjoyed myself a great deal, also!”

 

Mozzie sniffed. “Alex and I were very cold! It was seven degrees below.”

 

“Below what?” Steel enquired.

 

“The temperature at which pure water turns to ice, Caerrovon, as they measure it in that part of our Earth,” Mozzie told him. “About what we on Brethsham call minus two.”

 

“And you were cold?” the Lord asked, surprised.

 

“We were cold. Neal was nice and warm, cuddled up with …Sophia? Sophia! – and we were huddled under a small casement window wondering if he was being hanged for treason!”

 

Neal looked a little guilty. “But I did get a whole huge pillowcase full of very valuable goodies! Let you know what was happening I could not!

         “Being a prince for an evening was fun – and exciting. I think being a prince for life would be very constricting and boring.”

 

“Probably _pretending_ to be a prince adds to the excitement, Neal! 

_____“But I used to think that about being a Lord Keeper, other than my totally illegal raids on slavers camps!” Lord Steel told his son. “And see how _my_ life has changed.

         “And neither of you ever mentioned your night as a prince, Neal!”

 

“It was only one night. And I was very young. And not even the whole night!”

 

“And we took the risk, Caerrovon, because my young friend here owed a very dangerous man a great deal of money, so most of the proceeds went to pay him off, rather than on riotous living, so further our lifestyle it did not.”

 

“Yes, that is true,” Neal said, sadly. “Very much fun when the loot is already spoken for it is not.”

 

“I think I would prefer it if you avoided the mention of your impersonation of a royal prince to the dignitaries present… _especially_ His Royal Highness!”

 

“Oh, dream of it we would not, my Lord!” Neal assured him. “It is never a good thing to cause anyone to have thought of their security, or lack thereof, around us. We have a saying on Earth: Forewarned is forearmed. What if I wish to perhaps take _his_ place for an evening? No, we will leave him in blissful ignorance!”

 

“And no young and fluffy-headed princesses for you from now on!” Mozzie reminded him.

 

“No – but how much more satisfying to have my truly charming, extremely intelligent and quirky-minded bride!” Neal pointed out. “Sophia was fine for an hour or two. For a month - !” He shuddered. “Litha’s voice is a lovely modulated light contralto. Sophia’s was high and sharp. I _had_ to kiss her!”

 

“And Caerrovon,” Mozzie warned him, “we almost certainly still have many illegal things we have forgotten to tell to you.”

 

Steel shook his head a little, and then said, “I wonder if everything is all right? I thought we would be summoned to the ceremony by now. Perhaps I should go and see…?”

 

“No!” Neal said, sharply, then shrugged, feeling silly. “This is the last time…my Lord…”

 

“Neal,” Steel said, leaning across and patting his son’s knee, “you will be my son always. You have spent much time with Litha, as I have with Shalla, and we still make time for each other. We always will. Our women are not jealous of our love for each other!”

He thought a moment. “I think the King sent his youngest – and reputedly smartest – son to see the new family at Steel Keep…after all, politically, the re-forming of the coalition of the Seven Keeps is very significant!”

 

“To the King?” Neal asked, a little surprised.

 

“Of course, to the King, Neal!” Mozzie huffed.

 

“Oh! And I thought he was just here to wish us well!”

 

“From what I have gathered from the records,” Mozzie told him, “the Seven together could, if they wished, mount a very dangerous assault against the King, even if all other Keeps stood with him, and take the crown! He is too astute not to know it!”

 

Neal looked even more startled. “But we have no such plans – do we, my Lord? Who would be crowned – Lord Betchem?”

 

“If someone in the Seven is fomenting discord and treason against the King,” Steel told him, “I have no knowledge of it! I would throw the weight of Steel against it: this Royal House has been good for us, they are not tyrants as some in the past have been…

         “…and,” he said, thoughtfully, “imagine Brethsham as a king I cannot!”

 

Neal laughed. “ _Then_ I would have been in trouble, had I roused his ire!”

 

“I doubt it would have stopped your plans,” Steel said, drily.

 

“If I started a planetary war, I would regret re-aligning the Seven,” Neal said, determinedly. “Deposing a leader seldom has good consequences in the short term, even if they are far worse than the House of Gulph. So many people are killed, wars are _terrible.”_

“Many young men see them as a stage for the making of heroes,” Steel said.

 

“In fictional stories, they are,” Mozzie said. “In real life, they are hell.”

 

“Yes. I have read some of the stories of the Keep Wars, and perused the lists of those killed,” Steel nodded. “And we still have many slaves and farmers here who were maimed. Klenalth is one.”

 

“However, since I believe the Seven are powerful enough to give other forces pause if they intended to attack us, yet not themselves intending to increase their power or wealth by conquest,” Neal said, “I am very glad that we did what we did, Lord! Now we are to see you marry and have children, and all the Seven – and perhaps the King! – can cease to worry about either of _us_  - Mozzie or myself - as Lord Keeper of Steel!”

 

The three of them laughed, and there was a knock on the door and their men came in to make sure all was ready for the ceremony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 4 of Changes.


	5. Finally...Mine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bride for Neal.

 

 

 

Litha walked in and the small sounds in the room ceased. She was wearing a full-length ivory coat in heavy textured silk, high in the neck, beautifully tailored. It had a multitude of pearl buttons as a front closure from ground to throat. Her hair was piled on top of her head, tendrils escaped to form kiss-curls on her forehead and neck. Diana had been trusted by Neal to do his bride’s make-up, and it was delicate, merely darkening her eyelashes and brows, touching her eyelids with green, and her lips with a pale coral. It was all she needed.

 

When Diana and Sally had seen the coat, they had been dubious, however. It cinched in at the waist, Litha wore it like a queen, but Di had been sure that Neal would have gone all out to ornament his wife. His artistic ability surely would have given him some ideas more glamorous than this, beautifully constructed as it was?

 

Neal himself had chosen to wear Brethsham clothing rather than one of his Byron suits: totally plain Paris blue from head to soft boots, form-hugging, long sleeves and high neck, Litha’s love collar and his slave collar, which he had designed to link together into one and through the half-knot, lay across his shoulders and breast, not ostentatious, merely glittering a little with his breath. His idea was not to draw attention from Litha but in this he failed dismally, for his clothing hugged the curves of his body in all its perfection. The back of the pullover was subtly embroidered in silver thread with the sword of Steel, standing vertically, softened by the twining, flowering vines of Laffaysham that used it as support.

 

Standing with her husband a little behind her daughter, Litha’s mother saw him and drew in a sharp breath. She knew his charming white smile but he was now a study in solemnity, his face like a perfectly carved statue. She loved to work in alabaster, and thought that standing there he was the epitome of manly physical beauty. The fact that he was oblivious added greatly to his charm. All his attention was on his bride.

 

He had his chin a little lowered, his eyes intent on Litha, who was dimpling at him across the large open room. She wondered what he was thinking. She refrained from sensing his emotions, it was too great an invasion of the privacy with which he cloaked himself, wrapped in silence, alone, still and silent in the midst of the multitude. Behind him Mozzie and June and Lira were invisible to her, and they, too respected Neal’s privacy at this moment, thrilled that he had finally found a woman to love and trust, a woman worthy of his love.

 

The two then slowly walked towards each other, and Lords Steel and Laffay joined them as the met in the centre of the room and each asked of their subjects, “Do you still hold to your decision to wed?” to which the celebrants nodded, not looking aside, though Neal’s hand found his father’s and squeezed it for a few seconds.

 

The Lords backed away a little, and Neal went down on one knee, as he had at the betrothal, but this time he seemed oblivious to the much larger crowd. He started to undo the buttons. Litha stood still as eternity and watched him.

 

It took him some time.

 

He never hurried.

 

He stood smoothly as he undid the higher buttons.

 

There was almost complete silence as the onlookers watched, entranced. But when he was finished and she slipped the article off her shoulders, the watchers gasped. Neal, absorbed in his work, meticulously fluffed her dress where the heaver fabric had flattened it a little. Her gaze never left his face.

 

She was wearing a relatively simple, soft, full length silk chiffon dress, the bodice hand-tucked to accentuate her shape, ruched bands criss-crossing across her midsection, snug around her neat waist, all in various blends of real beige tinged with softest apricot. There were small streaks of soft peach and celery green amidst the shadings, lightening to the off-the-shoulder frilled, short ivory sleeves. From her waist multiple layers fell to her pretty feet, fading from the beiges to ivory, vertical streaks and multiple underskirts of slight variations of the colours adding interest to the skirt, and also subtle vertical lines of tiny beads and pearls gave the skirt nearer the waist some weight. Small pale-peach roses and celery-coloured leaves snuggled here and there in the soft ruffles of the neckline, and in her hair, and when the skirt moved one could sometimes catch a glimpse of them on her toes.

 

As soon as she moved, the bottom of the skirt, widened by previously invisible double-circle godets to her knees, flared and swirled like creamy sea-foam about her ankles.

 

Neal stepped back, looked directly at her, and his slow-dawning smile lightened first his magnificent eyes, and then brightened his whole face.

 

“Mine!” he mouthed, silently.

 

She closed the distance between them, said to him, “Mine!”, put her arms round his neck and kissed him, and he, without a semblance of awareness of the spectators, took her in his arms and kissed her sensuously in return.

 

Then there was an eruption of noise and they were surrounded by friends and family. Joster quickly rescued Litha’s coat and backed off with it. Diana, warrior-swift even in her heels, pounced on Neal and said, “I should have known you’d have a trick up your – under your wife’s coat! Neal, she’s gorgeous, and her dress is perfect for her!”

 

Neal, now holding Litha’s hand, laughed and returned kisses and good wishes and then crowd drew back, parted and silenced and Prince Ferion came up.  Litha curtsied deeply, Neal bowed.

 

“My blessing on your marriage, Neal and Litha,” the prince said, simply, his rather plain features glowing with a sincere smile. “I have never seen such a gentle and beautiful display of love, nor indeed such a good-looking couple!”

 

Neal smiled back at him and said, “Thank you, Your Highness! We are honoured by your presence at Steel Keep and at our wedding, and by your kind words!”

 

“Your words are kinder than they are truthful, Your Highness,” Litha said, shyly. “Though you might think me good-looking due to the beautiful dress Neal designed for me.”

 

“I was…warned…that he had many talents!” the prince chuckled, “but marriage may give him healthy outlets for his creative abilities, such as this quite charming gown of yours! And never sell yourself short, Milady Aramalitha of Steel!

         “Continue with your family celebrations, Neal and Litha.”

 

“Thank you, Your Highness!” they both replied, bowing to him.

 

Seven Chiri, led by Lira, appeared and surrounded the pair, and though they said nothing that could be heard by anyone else, their hair twined about the two and they sang a short, light, bubbling tune filled with joy and promise.

 

“Ah – the fairy godmother of the stories!” Mozzie said to Sally, who hugged his arm, overjoyed. “And no evil fairy at _this_ feast!”

The Chiri fell away from each other and the couple, leaving them blinking back tears, and moved away, through the crowd and out of the room. They did not feel comfortable with too much noise and confusion, though Lira was more used to her human friends than most of her kin.

 

 

Then Neal took Litha’s hands, and to the delight of the crowd the band changed the tune and they danced the dance of lovers, a beautiful waltz. They moved swiftly in the lilting sway around the floor, her skirt billowing, frothing and floating around them both. No-one who saw it ever forgot that sight: an embodiment of their love and joy, hardly seeming to touch the floor!

 

Those of the crowd who could, joined in, and then there were a few folk dances, and shortly the main meal was served.

 

Neal and Litha were seated half-way down the side, the Laffay’s on one side, Lord Steel, Mozzie and June on the other. The Prince was at the Head of the table, Lord Betchem at the foot. The other Lords and their families were evenly distributed around the table.

 

Mozzie poked his head between Litha and Neal and hissed, “Such an accumulation of power you two have amassed! Is it not lucky that we like them all?” Then he vanished for a time.

 

To those nearest Neal and Litha, this was a culmination of planning and preparing, of course. All they needed to say to each other was that it had all gone according to plan, thank heavens!

 

“You still like your secrets, Neal!” his father said. “That dress is different to anything I have ever seen!”

 

The constrictions of a very formal event prevented much conversation except between those seated close beside each other, but when they all went back to the ballroom, now filled with tables, Neal and Litha sat and immediately Litha’s mother appeared and said, “That gown is a dream, Neal! You designed it?”

 

“I did. Lady, with some advice and help from your daughter, my beloved mother, June, and our wardrobe mistress, Lucilla, and her team! I am glad you like it!”

 

“I thought you might be lured into over-embellishing it, Neal,” June said, softly, “which would have been gilding the lily: your wife is so bright and pretty an ornate gown would have been wrong! Everything about it is delicate and pretty.”

 

“So we agreed, June!” Neal agreed. “Thank you for being here with us?”

 

“I would not have been anywhere else in all the... _universe!_ Even if I had to _walk_ here! _”_ June told him. “Now I can look forward to grandchildren I will enjoy visiting because I love both their parents tremendously! I will go to another table and let you two visit with the other guests! We have the rest of our lives together!”

 

“But,” demanded Aramathessia, “how does the dress fasten! It is so form-fitting!”

 

“It is called a zip-fastener, dear Lady,” Neal told her. “We are making them at Steel, now.”

 

Mozzie was smiling to himself. He was making fortunes importing ‘green’ Brethsham technologies to Earth, now Neal was going to make money for their Keep by bringing Earth inventions to Brethsham! But as the celebration wore on, he found himself less comfortable. He had been, after all, a solitary human for much the greater part of his life. In this, as his prodigious abilities and near-telepathic ability at times, he was like unto the Chiri!  Sally, reading him almost as clearly as Litha could read Neal, took his hand and smiled at him, and he thanked every aspect of the deity he knew that his wife – ? - yes, the beloved wife of his heart – had no need for a public display: they were as devoted as they would ever be.

 

 

“You have made my daughter even more beautiful, Neal. And she is so obviously happy in your presence!” Lithatherian said.

 

Neal grinned at his father-in-law. “You are heroically restraining yourself from telling me to keep her happy, or else, new father! We are but human: I am sure we will argue, and even quarrel at times! She, as Lord Laffay told me,” he smiled at that Lord and Lady, standing nearby listening, “is far from a vapid woman! But I recognise how blessed I am to be found acceptable to her, and to her family and her Keep, and I will, with the help of my family and hers, keep her as happy as is humanly possible and prove myself worthy of that trust.

“I would do nothing,” he added, somewhat naively, “to damage the image of my father, Lord Caerrovon Steel, after all.”

 

The Laffays present all smiled at him. They all possessed enough empathy to know his heart, though they also dimly sensed tumult in his past relationships, even through his shields and their respect for his privacy.

 

His Lord made no announcements nor demanded any promises from his new daughter. He merely hugged her closely. Their common blood and gifts made them transparent enough one to the other. He would have advised his son against this union, else. He had spent lonely years before Neal had invaded his life and his heart, and would not have willingly shared him with a partner who was not good enough for Neal, who would have stolen their time from each other and given less to his son in return. Litha looked up into his light, clear eyes and smiled wisely, and he smiled back.

 

 

The rooms, all opened for the ball, were weighty with all the power of the nobility of this continent of Brethsham, and lighted with all the glitter of every woman – and man – who donned their best finery and jewels! The prince, seated beside Lord Steel, watched with his eyes a little slitted, taking in all of those present.

 

“What do you know of His Highness, Prince Ferion of Gulph?” Neal asked Litha quietly, as he handed her a glass of fruit juice.

 

“He has all the shields of a man born and brought up with secrets, born to protect his family,” she told him.

 

“Yes, yes – but you could read _Mozzie!_ ”

 

She chuckled. “Then he is smart and trained in guile, trained to distrust the motives of others and hide his own…yet he wishes good for those who are not a threat, and loyal to his family and friends. I like him, Neal.”

 

“Good. He is not a threat to _us?”_  

 

She knew he meant all of the Seven Alliance Keeps as well as his family and Keep, and shook her head. “No. He feels some concern that they are welded again, the Mighty Seven, but _his_ concern that is not, but that of his …advisors? He has no innate Laffay gift, but his training makes him aware of the smallest hints in the behaviour of others - ”

 

“As Mozzie and I are!”

 

“Exactly that! And he has quieted, sure that at this moment there is nothing…”

 

“No-one is threatening the peace of Brethsham!”

 

She nodded, and he took her hand. “Good! Then we can dance and enjoy ourselves…if there is enough room on this dance floor with all these people!”

 

Neal danced with Litha, with her mother and Lady Laffay, with June and with Shalla, with Diana and Tammy and Susan. The Prince claimed Royal privileges and danced with the new bride, and Neal heard his beloved laughing over something the Prince had said, and smiled.

 

“So, Lady Shalla,” he said, as they came together in one of the country dances, “do you feel as happy as you look, may I enquire?”

 

She blushed a little and said, “I feel exceedingly happy and fortunate. Your father…though it feels distinctly strange to call him that, since he is so young…is such a lovely man.”

 

“He is. I am so glad he has found someone who recognises it, for he is, I believe, a man in a million – or more! I have truly never known anyone like him. He is gentle and strong and generous beyond anything.”

 

They were drawn apart by the movements of the couples, but when they rejoined, she said, solemnly, “I will truly do my best to make him happy, Neal. I feel very grateful that his fancy alighted upon me! To tell you truly, I felt I would have to choose amongst the Gorenmen, and though they are very …” she faltered.

 

“Yes – lovely to look at, no doubt, regal and smooth, and very worthy - but a little staid for such a young-hearted woman as yourself!”

 

“Yes! Other than their gambling, which I understand not! There was no Trent to whom I felt that level of attraction. So, though Caerrovon,” she blushed a little more at calling him by his given name, but soldiered on, “recalls his horror at your impudence and daring in visiting a forbidden Keep, this lady is forever in your debt, and should there by anything I can do for you, Neal of Steel, you have only to ask it of me for it to be yours!”

 

Neal smiled as the music stopped and he led her back to his father and her Lord, standing together. “Look after my Lord, Lady Shalla, love him, and allow me to spend some time with him, in your company and in private, and I will be happy. But we are kin, now, so please do not speak of debts!”

 

“He warned me, you know!” she grinned suddenly.

 

“Of what, Lady?”

 

“Of your charm and Mozzie’s intelligence!” she told him.

 

“Oh!” He pretended to be offended. “ _I_ can also be intelligent, at times!”

 

“And I find your Mozzie _extremely_ charming!” she retorted, and he grinned.

 

They parted on very good terms, and then he danced with Lady Camber, who was far more lively than he remembered – and just a tiny bit drunk, if Neal was any judge  – and then he found Litha holding our her hand, and they danced another waltz.

 

“Lord and Lady Camber feel that the waltz is a _very_ alien dance!” Litha told him as they sat for a time on the benches on the terrace to cool off. “And far from totally decent!”

 

“It was just the same on my planet!” Neal assured her. “It was the first time couples had held each other close, rather than merely touched fingers in dances like your country dances!

         “Many centuries…hundred-winters, you understand?...later, there were even more outrageous dances to infuriate the prim and proper!”

 

“You must teach me!” Litha told him, snuggling her slender fingers into his hand.

 

“Now that you are a married lady, and my wife, it is entirely proper for me to do so!” he chuckled, imagining Lady Camber’s face if he and Litha should demonstrate the rock-and-roll!

 

 

Lord Steel was enjoying himself hugely. The gorgeous woman he had come to desire had become betrothed to him (as good as wed, unless some catastrophe occurred). His son, at one time agitated and restless, had just wed one of his own kinfolk, and his whole emotional energy was light and joyous, with just a hint of the restless undercurrents that used to make him a little tiring to be around.

 

His Keep was filled with more nobility than he had ever seen in one place – even at the house each Keep was never fully represented – and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. He had asked his new daughter, and even the Prince seemed to just be savouring the party and delighting in a night of frivolity, without an excess of formality.

 

Even Ophera had calmed down, since the banquet and all the subsequent food offerings had been most well-received and though all the guests ate and drank without much restraint, she had planned an excess of sufficiency and they were certainly not going to run out of food _this_ season!

 

He and Shalla, and at another time Neal and Litha, and many of the other couples went and spent some time in the huge covered riding arena, where a bon-fire was burning and the children were playing games and eating and making a great din, though they calmed when they saw him.

 

While he and Shalla were there, Prince Ferion appeared, with his body-guards, accompanied by Lady June. Steel was a little startled, and bowed his head. The children, noticing his start, saw who had arrived and silence suddenly spread over the large group.

 

“No, no, children, continue your play!” the Prince said. “I came to see your games!”

 

Their obedience was a little forced, and he turned to Steel, letting the children feel less observed, and shrugged. “It is oftimes a curse to be of the nobility, is it not, Lord Steel?”

 

“Call me Caerrovon, please, Your Highness, while we are alone! I wish to thank you again for gracing our little party with your presence, and wish you will convey our pleasure to His Majesty your father, also!”

 

His Highness’s bright eyes looked up into Steel’s, and he said, “It has not been our…custom, we of the House of Gulph, to attend every wedding or dedication, but there has been much activity and excitement since the Earthlings were brought to Brethsham.”

 

“Indeed, Your Highness.”

 

“It seemed to have as its epicentre this small Keep of yours.”

 

“Indeed, Your Highness?”

 

“We are not entirely sure that it has all been beneficial, though you understand that a ruling house always has a dislike of change of any sort.”

 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

 

“Lord Betchem entered a Challenge to the way the Slavery Laws have been enforced, did you know?”

 

The prince was looking over the children who were racing around the fire once again and his tone was mildly enquiring. Steel pursed his lips to subdue a smile! He said, straight-faced, “I was aware of the substance of the Challenge, Your Highness.”

 

“Yes,” the Prince said, glancing at him sideways. “We thought you might be.”

 

“My adopted sons are good examples of the atrocities committed, Your Highness,” Steel told him, throwing caution to the winds.

 

The Prince turned and studied him. “We will agree that if this Challenge of …Betchem’s? …had taken force a few winters ago, we would not now be speaking of the excitement brought to our society by the Earthlings.”

 

“Definitely we will agree, Your Highness. I admit, however, that I am glad that Lord Betchem,” he emphasised the name ever so slightly, “did not think to enter the Challenge early enough to stop the entrance into our society of the Earthlings. I love my sons, Your Highness.”

 

“Steel has always been a strange, unaccountable Keep!” the young Prince shook his head and smiled. “It is perhaps fortunate it has been also rather smaller than many others, and its oddities having therefore slightly less impact on the society as a whole.”

 

“I apologise if our Keep has given you or His Majesty, your august father, our King, any sleepless moments, Your Highness!” Steel bowed his head again.

 

“Oh, I think it is a good thing that our society contains some unusual elements! If we were all the same, and all extremely settled, we would be less able to change and grow if and when necessary, Steel - Caerrovon!” He glanced back with a hooded grin, and, with a gesture to his men, he left the room.

 

“Whew!” Caerrovon said to Shalla.

 

“Indeed, my love,” she said. “But I think he likes you.”

 

“His life is made up of making people feel that he likes them, Shalla, dear, no matter how he truly feels, unless the situation is beyond redeeming.”

 

“How sad!”

 

“However, we will decide that he does like us, for I feel he would make a dangerous enemy.”

 

“Ask our new daughter, Caerrovon, for she will see through his masks!”

 

Steel hugged her to him, hearing her call Litha her daughter for the first time.

 

 

 

“How long do we have to stay at this ball, my darling girl?” Neal whispered to Litha.

 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, my Neal?”

 

“I am, and yet I feel there are ways I could be entertained more completely, my Litha!

____“Are there any odd and embarassing customs to ensure we reach the marriage bed, for in the history of my planet there certainly were!”

 

She dimpled, and looked about. “No, we are not as unsophisticated as that!

___“We should perhaps find the Prince and each Lord Keeper and excuse ourselves - pleading tiredness, you understand – if you are sure you can survive without a second dance with Lady Camber!”

 

“There will be other dances,” Neal shrugged, and she grinned. The made their way through the crowds and told Lord Betchem and Ethlan that they were withdrawing, then Lord Camber, who was dancing with June, so they hugged her and she kissed them both.

 

“Goodnight, sweet prince and princess of my heart!” she said. “I am so proud of you both!”

 

Neal left her, his heart full of joy and love for his ‘mother’. Then they found the Lords Trent and the Goren discussing waterways with a bunch of Laffays, including Litha’s parents and Lord Laffay, so they spend a little time with Litha’s people, who strove to speak aloud for their new son’s benefit, though he was sure he was missing some of the nuances that passed between them.

 

They turned to find Lord Sunder and Tallk waiting to say goodnight. “We saw you hugging and kissing people,” Lord Sunder said, in his abrupt way, “so we assumed you’d had enough of this crowd and wanted to seek your rooms and your privacy!

         “Jebb has vanished – with a pretty Goren lass, though they are probably playing some game of chance, or I hope so! Tell them not, Neal, but I think I would find a Goren daughter and her family… unaccommodating!”

 

Neal chuckled, and Tallk hugged them both, and then, to Neal’s surprise, so did Lord Sunder. Seeing the expression that Neal suppressed too late and too little, Lord Sunder said, “You have helped us so much with your fog-collecting fabric, Neal, and our trade with Goren and Trent is good, and we can keep our reserves of coal without the other Lord Keepers making us feel selfish!

___“You have been a good friend to Sunder! I hope you will not be too busy to visit as often as you have in the past.”

 

“I was helping my Keep also, Lord Sunder, but hold anything against helping my friends I do not.”

 

“ _I_ have beloved children of my body, Neal,” Lord Sunder said, gesturing at Tallk, who grinned, “but I think Steel has been unexpectedly blessed in finding strangers to adopt that have benefitted his Keep as have you and your brother – where is he, by the way?”

 

“He is not one for crowds, Lord Sunder!” Neal explained, feeling a little surprised that he himself had not missed Mozzie’s presence before this – but it was a huge gathering!

 

“I enjoy this – the food, the drink, the music, the pretty girls,” Tallk told them, “but I find myself start to yearn for our plain, unembellished walls and our plain, unembellished way of life!”

 

“I feel the same leaving Laffaysham and coming home to Steel,” Neal said, squeezing Litha’s hand to let her know he was sorry about his feelings, “though Laffaysham is obviously more beautiful!”

 

“Go – we are keeping you from your marriage bed, and you are being exceedingly polite about it!” Lord Sunder said. “Go! We will speak again soon!”

 

“Thank you, Lord Sunder, Tallk. Enjoy the rest of the party!”

 

Then the worked their way through the press and came to the Prince. He saw them and by some royal magic his look caused the crowd to part and Litha and Neal drew closer and Litha curtsied deeply and Neal bowed, and Prince Ferion acknowledged their greeting and subservience to his position, and smiled.

         “So, Neal and Aramalitha of Steel, it has been a very enjoyable party!”

 

“I am glad you were able to be with us, and honour our gathering, Your Highness,” Neal said with another bow.

 

“And I am glad to have met you both.” He hesitated a fraction and went on, “I came to represent my family, my King, and to party with a large portion of the nobility of the realm. I also wished to ensure that the sons of Steel – and other Earthlings, if not _all_ other alien slaves – understood that they are subjects of the King.”

 

Neal’s eyebrows rose a little and he nodded and bowed his head. “My father is my liege-lord, Your Highness, and was before he adopted me. He in turn is your loyal subject, and therefore my loyalty is to the King, though I have never sworn it directly to His Majesty, being thought as yet a little young to be at court.”

 

Prince Ferion’s lip twitched in a small smile. “Stay away as long as you can… court can be tedious for the young and young at heart, Neal of Steel.”

 

Neal glanced about and saw that the mass of people, seeing that the Prince was having private discourse with the two of them, had turned away and moved off a little. He then looked at Litha and she smiled. He was not Laffay, but they had developed their own ways of communicating, as had he and Mozzie over the years. He turned back and said, “Please, if I may mention it, Your Highness, I had no thought of creating a powerful political alliance when I strove to mend the rift within our Keeps. From everything that I have heard and learnt, all the seven Lord Keepers respect and like the King and your House. Forgive me if I speak too plainly. I am an outlander, after all.”

 

His Highnesses eyebrows rose in his turn and he smiled. “Plain speaking indeed! It is refreshing to hear words without so much embellishment that the meaning becomes unclear! Twixt us, Neal of Steel, there was some small concern, though no such rumours, you understand.”

 

“That is well,” Neal nodded.

 

“Ah – here is your father who thinks to rescue you from the dangers of unvarnished speech with the representative of the Crown!” the Prince smiled tightly.

 

Lord Steel bowed his head but smiled a little in return. “I have no doubt that my sons have had discourse with many men of substance and power, and have held their own, Your Highness. And I feel they are in no danger of palace intrigue: your family is known for their integrity.”

 

“We are careful not to entrap children, Lord Steel!” his Highness agreed. “Now say goodnight to your son and daughter, I am sure they have much more interesting things to do than stand here speaking polite phrases that mean little!”

 

Steel, Neal and Litha bowed their heads and withdrew, and June joined them and Steel said, as they walked out of the main room and into a corridor – empty at this moment, “I do not know how to tell the Prince that I am more worried about how my dangerous son will confuse or entrap _him!”_

 

Neal chuckled. “No, no – not _here,_ my Lord!

         “And yes, we are growing weary of the crowds and wish to retire, if it pleases you?”

 

“Go! No doubt the dancing and eating will continue!” He took a deep breath and looked down for a moment, and Litha reached out and put her slender fingers on his sleeve, which made him smile at her. “Dear Aramalitha!

“I just wanted to say…how much I love both of you. Neal, you brought so much to my life, both you and Mozzie, and now Litha is here, and Shalla…and my dear friend June! I feel as though you came and threw open all the windows and blinds in a mourning Keep, though why it should have become that I know not!”

 

Neal smiled deep into his Lord’s eyes, as June murmured her thanks, and noticed that Brak, a little off to the left, always guarding Lord Steel, was nodding agreement.

 

Neal said, “We are not going anywhere, my Lord. The wedding is wonderful, but alters our relationship not at all, you know, unless it binds us all closer! And here is Shalla, so we may leave you in excellent – and beautiful - company!”

 

Lord Steel hugged them both, as did June, and Shalla and then Jarad and Mirelle and _their_ servants came up, and stood smiling at the young couple. Neal took Litha’s arm, waved a little with his fingers, and left the room.

 

 

 

 

The end of Chapter 5

 

Comments? Please?


	6. New Joys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning new things about each other...

 

 

Neal and Litha held hands as they opened the door to their suite and crossed the threshold. They walked into the lounge area and Mozzie and Sally were cuddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace playing chess. They were dressed in comfortable clothing, and looked over at the happy couple as one.

 

“You left the party early,” Neal commented, with a smile.

 

“Ag – parties are good to keep people busy while we lift their valuables, and sometimes for the wine,” Mozzie told him solemnly. “And at this event we were not able to do the former…and here the company is excellent and the wine better, and it’s quieter.”

 

“Never were a party animal,” Neal noted, kissing Mozzie on the head.

 

“Yeah. Why I always needed you to be my front man.”

 

Sally uncurled herself and held her arms out to Litha. “Welcome to the family, little sister,” she said, and they embraced, while Neal wondered how old Litha was in Earth years, and decided it really didn’t matter!

 

“Thank you, Sally,” Litha said, with that slight alien emphasis on the second syllable that Neal found so endearing.

 

“Do I get a hug, Sal-lee?” Neal enquired, and she hugged him in turn, while Litha sat down next to Mozzie and put her arms around _him._  Mozzie didn’t turn and hug her, but he smiled happily and squeezed her hand.

 

“I hope you will be as happy and contented as we are,” Sally said to them. “Now go to bed, why don’t you?”

 

“We shall!” Neal said, grinning at his friends, took Litha’s hand again and led her towards their suite, but Litha turned and asked Sally, “Can I shower in your suite, Sal-lee, while Neal uses ours?”

 

Neal’s eyebrows rose a little, but Sally nodded, “Of course!” and the girls went through the other door together. He sank down next to Mozzie and took a swig from Sally’s glass…Mozzie didn’t like anyone except Sally doing that with his, whereas Sally didn’t mind so long as it was Mozzie, Neal or Litha.

 

Mozzie grinned at him. “You’ve waited this long, mon frère…!”

 

“And she’s right,” Neal sighed a little. “We’ve been dancing and crushed in that squeeze of people. I would normally – if I didn’t have a girl on my arm when I came in and not wanting to giver her the chance to have second thoughts – shower before turning in.”

 

Mozzie’s glance was quizzical. “Do women ever have second thoughts once they follow you home, Neal?”

 

Neal ducked his head and shrugged. “I don’t give them the chance to do so…”

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s the reason.”

 

“Unless we shower together, of course.”

 

“Never could understand that. Cold hard surfaces everywhere. Sharp taps. Slippery footing. Hot water liable to go cold at inopportune moments. No.”

 

Neal shook is head, amused, and stood. “I had better be ready when she comes through. Don’t want to let her think I am anything but eager!”

 

Mozzie was continuing with his train of thought. “Showers are wonderful inventions for washing oneself clean. Beds now – and big, comfortable couches – and other soft surfaces - much nicer for indulging desires with a desireable other.”

 

“Conservative, that’s you!”

 

“I think it’s sensible.”

 

“Mostly, I agree!” Neal started for his suite.

 

“What Sally said,” Mozzie told him. “Be happy. I think she may be worth you, my friend.”

 

Neal turned, surprised. “Mozzie! Thank you!”

 

His friend waggled his hand a little. “Now you have to prove whether you’re worthy of _her!”_

 

They chuckled and Neal was again about to leave when Mozzie stuck his hand up in a ‘stop’ motion.

 

“What, Moz? I should be going…”

 

“Yeah, I know we said we wouldn’t and all, but just this once…”

 

“What have you done, Moz?”

 

Mozzie grinned his secretive, mischievous grin and pulled out from a hidden safe nest he’d made in the couch cushions… Neal’s long-covetted little art nouveau figurine! He shoved it in his friend’s direction as though it was yesterday’s newspaper, and had the best reward – seeing Neal’s whole face light up as though the sun had broken through grey clouds!

 

“Mozzie D. Haversham!” Neal came close to squealing in his joy! “My lady! My _other_ beautiful lady! How did you – no. I want to hear this in great detail, one dark and stormy night over stolen Cognac next to a roaring fire! I do not want to hurry it. But – oh, thank you! How did you remem…yeah, of course.”

 

“You collected beautiful females; this will be your last, hopefully!” Mozzie cocked his head.

 

“I don’t promise not to collect more _art-work! “_ Neal hugged his prize to his chest, smiled down once more and hurried through with a little backward wave. He carefully set the lady down on the bedside table, planning on installing a light bug to illuminate her as the artist had planned. He admired her for a few seconds, but felt time was of the essence: he needed to be ready for Litha!

 

He was feeling tired, but the expectation was rising within him as he showered and shaved, wanting to be her perfect lover tonight…this morning… and she had noted before that she wasn’t partial to stubble! He dried his hair quickly, rubbed the mirror with a towel and glanced at his reflection….

 

_Neal Caffrey, heir to a Keep, married to a perfectly normal…well, no, not that! – but a quite lovely woman of noble descent, met the heir to the throne, a rather extensive extended loving, trusting household, haven’t stolen anything for years except Aramalitha of Laffaysham’s heart…what is the universe coming to?_

He considered his reflection soberly for a moment. _Do I feel different? Do I feel different that I am married? Do I feel tied down, constrained?_

He grinned. _Perhaps if Litha was a different kind of woman…!_

However, as he went through, he acknowledged that he felt absurdly nervous! He had enough experience with women, the reviews had always been good, he had soon brought a high level of confidence to new sexual partners…but this wasn’t like the other encounters. Not that the women of Brethsham were anatomically so different – he’d checked with Diana and Tammy so as not to assume things he shouldn’t! – but if Alex – or Rebecca – or Sara – had found fault with him as a lover, a man, they would have walked away and he would have moved on, pride perhaps a little dinged and damaged. In this situation he was committed. This was going to need work and compromise for longer than he was used to! And he wanted that. Despite his reputation, he wanted stability and a woman who was like Mozzie – at least in some respects! A woman, a wife he trusted on every level, and who felt the same about him: Someone to truly share his life with. He took a deep breath and walked into the bed chamber.

 

 

He stopped in the doorway, smiling. Litha was seated at the dressing table, her slender back towards him, brushing out her light blonde hair. Her long slim legs were bare, as were her narrow feet. She was dressed in a simple, mid-thigh-length ivory nightgown made of, if Neal was any judge, the finest Irish linen, decorated with complex cut-work and faggotting. The short sleeves left her arms bare and she continued to put her hair up and then covered it with a silly lace thing that was too cute to be called a cap!

 

He saw her see him in the mirror, and smile.

 

“No silky lingerie?” he asked, in English, sending her images as clearly as he could.

 

She rose in a single movement and came to him, putting her hands on his bare chest, and then looked up. “Diana took me to a …shop? They had lots of silly, useless pieces of fabric and many of them had holey – lace -  that was rough and nasty. The woman there was sycophantic, I did not trust her…she was thinking horrid thoughts about her lovers – lovers! Many! – while telling me about the merchandise. 

“Diana said you would buy me anything from there I wanted, but why would a …husband,” she smiled and dimpled to call him that, “want his wife to wear something so uncomfortable and ugly?”

 

He breathed in her fragrance: a thousand spring flowers with a hint of spice. “They are considered not ugly, Litha, and I think the idea might be that if they are uncomfortable, the lovely lady will be willing to take them off as soon as possible.

“And where did you get _this?”_

 

“When I told June she laughed and gave it to me. She also had a Christening gown for our babies!

“Oh.” Her eyes went big and sorrowful. “I am sad to have disappointed you, Neal. When I saw the shop, I thought that I was understanding not an Earth joke, and Tammy was not by to explain! I should have come to you and enquired of you…”

 

“No, no! For this pretty thing suits you better than dressing you up in silly alien clothing that would look wrong on you, I think. And I would hate for you to be uncomfortable for even a second! – a very short time!”

 

“I know seconds!” Litha said, proudly. “Mozzie taught me! Hours, minutes, seconds, kilograms, grams, decigrams, centigrams, pounds shillings and pence, Newtons, Pascals…Farenheit and Centrigrade…”

 

Neal caught her hands, laughing. “And you know what all of those mean?”

 

“No,” she confided. “But I am learning.”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, Mozzie said that the Military…no, police? Can ask me to estimate 30 seconds of duration, and he taught me a tune to help me do it!” She happily hummed the tune from _Jeopardy_ , and Neal hugged her tight.

“You will never be pulled over for drunken driving! And if you were, they would be so smitten by your beauty that they would instantly let you go.”

 

“Mozzie has tried to teach me about wines, too, Neal…and I prefer water. I did not tell him.” She looked so guilty that he laughed aloud and hugged her tighter!

 

“Come, darling girl! Let us go to bed. I would like to teach you some new things, too – and I hope very much that you will enjoy them better than wine!” He paused a minute, considering his words carefully and asked, “Not that I mind, darling, but why did you pin up your lovely hair?”

 

“Oh, many women told me how I would love to love you, Neal, and how handsome you are, how caring and gentle…and I agree with them…and they told me how their men loved their long hair loose in the bed, but how often those men lay on their hair and it was nearly pulled out when they tried to move!

         “I thought not that you were that mean, Neal, that you would want my hair down in bed for that reason, any more than the harsh nightwear.”

 

“I love your beautiful hair, I am going to watch you brush it every time I can - but I like your hair up, Litha! I never considered the hair-pulling thing…how horrid!

“But now I can see that lovely smooth, long neck, those quite gorgeous, creamy shoulders. And all around your hairline, especially at the back, are these adorable kiss-curls…and I am going to kiss each and every one!”

 

He suited actions to words, then gathered her up in his arms, lifting her off her feet, and carried her to the bed. She snuffled in his neck and all the sophistocated, experienced, worldly-wise women he had bedded had never done anything so arousing!

 

It is often said that lovemaking with one’s true love is unique and special: Stars explode and angelic choirs sing crescendos of love. Neal’s first night of passion with Litha…and the morning after…were all of that, and more.

 

He remembered moments of such breathlessness that he almost lost consciousness. Even recalling them was dangerous if doing something recquiring his attention or, of course, around his father or any Laffay!

 

“Did you know it would be like this, darling girl?” he asked her, as the rosy dawn glow filtered past the slightly open curtains, and Neal revelled in the smoothness of her skin touching his in many places.

 

“I expected it to be exceedingly pleasant, my Neal,” she told him. “But…”

 

“But?!” His eyebrows rose into the soft curls that fell on his forehead.

 

“Do you…mind you if we wait to have children till our Lord and Lady give birth?”

 

“Oh!” Neal smiled a little, relieved. “No, indeed. You think they will prefer it? And when are they going to start a family? They are yet not wed, my lady!”

 

“I know they wish to be, and there is no impediment. I have _felt_ that many of our Lord’s friends are urging him to start his own family.”

 

“Ah – they wish not to risk having a Lord Mozzie on the throne of Steel!” Neal laughed. “I am not sure I can entirely blame them!”

 

“No.” She paused. “They would perchance find that more interesting than having a son of Steel by blood, it is true…but you have seen how few children are here?” Neal nodded. “It is thought that if the Lord begats children, so will his people.”

 

“ ‘As goes the High Priest goes Israel’?” Neal murmured, then shook his head a little at Litha’s enquiring look. He went on, “So no-one would think it odd if their betrothal was of short duration?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“And you wish us to take…precautions?...so we do not preempt their happy event.” Neal was not at all sure what would be acceptable to Litha in the way of birth control.

 

“I shall do so.”

 

“Oh! Are there herbs, or…?”

 

She raised her head and looked at him, puzzled. “No. I shall request that the children wait.”

 

“Oh!” Neal said, again, at sea.

 

She felt it and said, “Are you not aware? There have been three children waiting for us to wed for many fifty-days…they first appeared when we met again at my original Keep.”

 

“Three?”

 

“Yes, a girl and two boys. There are others, but they are patient and have not irrevocably attached themselves to us.”

 

“A girl, first? A daughter like you, Litha?”

 

“Yes, a girl joined us first. Truly, see them dancing and laughing when we are together you do not? You do want them, Neal, misunderstood I have not?”

 

“Yes,” Neal said, decidedly, and thankfully. For most of his life he had not been in a position to even consider bringing a child into the world. Now his life was so different! “Yes, dearest, I certainly want them!

 

“Though,” Neal asked, a little concerned, a thought occuring to him,“do we have to give them names as the Laffays do? Aramacaffrey? Aramaneallia? I cannot imagine standing at the back door and calling that!”

 

Litha laughed in delight and hugged him. “Be not silly! Laffays call their children without uttering a word, Neal!”

 

“So that is why you can have such long names, and never shorten them!”

 

She nodded, smiling. “And we do not need to follow the traditions. They are Laffaysham traditions, after all, and we are of Steel, now. Steel and Earth, and my poor husband might need to call the children out of the back door!”

 

Neal said, “Phew!” exaggeratedly, and Litha went on, “It is to honour our heritage that we do it, though. The heritage that makes our lovemaking so intimate.”

 

Neal was silent, and she queried, “The Lord – Lord Laffay – told you the story? How a man journeyed to where Laffaysham now stands and a woods’-woman came to him and they founded Laffaysham Keep?”

 

“Yes. It sounded a little far-fetched, but most peoples have romanticised stories of their origins.”

 

“But in this case, there is evidence, Neal. After all, Laffay is the Keep of sensitives. The tradition is that it derives from that first union, that between a Brethshamman and a Chiri. Which is why we have the long names.”

 

“But the Chiri – names? - Lira? Kitran?”

 

Litha laughed. “Oh, no, no…you must request of them their complete names if you have the time! The names are not words, they are song, and tell their whole geneology and history! They chose some small part of their name for the non-Chiri to use, as an act of pure mercy!”

 

“I have taken them for granted. I must see if Lira or Kitran will tell me more of their fascinating history. Where did they come from? Why are their two completely sentient species on Brethsham?”

 

“Neal, we know now well that the Chiri can come from anywhere and go anywhere, at will!”

 

“If they remember it all, what a story for our children. So you mind not if we call our children by shorter names?”

 

“Not at all. Had I married a Sunderman, I would not expect a flowery name for my child!”

 

“No! Not if Jebb and Tallk are examples of their elaborate names!

         “Now, if you are going to wriggle your lovely, naked body over mine in this manner, Litha, dear, you must expect me to wish to reaffirm the intimacy of our love-making!”

 

“Yes, my Neal – let us do so at once!”

 

 

 

 

Susan and Sally brought them breakfast, and told them that there were still many guests staying over, and that it was best that they remained in their solitude. However, Neal and Litha joined Sally and Mozzie, Susan and Joster and Merritt in their private diningroom (“How fancy that sounds!” from Sally) for the evening meal.

 

“You don’t want to be alone, you two?” Sally asked, diffidently.

 

“No, not all the time, Sal!” Neal told her. “This is all family, after all! I want my honeymoon to be in the Keep that I love – not just our suite!”

 

A half hour later June, Lord Steel and Shalla appeared with Brak, and were delighted to find Neal and Litha there. They snacked desultorily and then they all moved to the lounge, carrying glasses and mugs.

 

“We are hiding!” their Lord told them, slightly guiltily, relaxing into a chair, all sprawled legs and arms, as Neal remembered him doing long ago. “We have been relieved of the presence of His Highness the Prince, since he has to attend to other probably far more urgent and important affairs of the Kingdom, assured that for the moment no revolution is being hatched at strange and unaccountable Steel Keep, and many of the local Steel businessmen and of course the farmers have left, Jarad and the Sea Keep party felt they had to go (though before they left wrested a promise that I would bring my family to visit very soon) but most of the rest of the guests seem to be having a very pleasant stay. I wish not to be inhospitable, and I have truly enjoyed the excitement and music, but I have been Lord of such a quiet Keep for so long….”

 

“And I,” Lady Shalla agreed, “have only had the infrequent and rather staid gatherings at Goren, so I too revelled in the activity and noise and vast company, but I find it becomes tiring very quickly.

         “You were wise to remove yourselves, Mozzie and Sally!”

 

“No-one ever said my eldest was stupid!” Steel grinned.

 

“I am not at ease in many social situations, Lady Shalla,” Mozzie nodded at her, making her wonder if he would prefer a smaller group invading _his_ living space. He saw her look and smiled a little. “I am getting better with family, Lady Shalla, but experienced that before coming to Steel I had not!”

 

“Then,” she said, lifting her chin a little, “to stop calling me ‘Lady Shalla’ is imperitive! I am to be your mother, of sorts! So Shalla will be quite adequate, or I shall feel that I am again at Goren Keep!”

 

Mozzie nodded his acquiescence, and Steel took her hand and squeezed it. She glanced round at the company and slid from the arm of his chair into his lap and he comfortably settled his arms round her, their quiet pleasure in each other evident to see.

 

“You look a little tired, June,” Neal said, solicitiously. “I am sure you have been working too hard!”

 

“You didn’t even let me sing at your wedding, Neal!” June smiled and frowned at the same time.

 

“You know the wedding did not go according to my plan! I will love to have you sing at our parties, June, but not in front of all those strangers!”

 

“Such as the Prince?” Steel smiled.

 

“Well – yes,” Neal shrugged uncomfortably. “I wanted our wedding to be just our close friends. Now I understand we have to invite all our Steel tennants and local businesses, they deserve to enjoy a festive occasion, but…well, June, no.”

 

“He has been in the shadows too long to reveal all the secrets of his family without fear,” Litha explained.

 

“Exactly!” Mozzie nodded. “And who knows – Crown Prince Whatsisname might whisk June off to his palace by Royal Order if he knows how well she can sing!”

 

“I had not thought of that!” Neal raised his eyebrows. “It is true.”

 

“Oh, fiddlesticks!” June admonished them. “I am sure he has musicians and singers and all sorts of entertainers of a much higher standard than I am, Mozzie!”

 

“He does have wonderful Brethsham players, minstrels, singers and choirs, Lady June,” Steel smiled, carefully using the title he had bestowed on her because of her obvious gentility, “but you have a lovely voice, full and resonant. The style of singing, too, is not of Brethsham and possibly, now that many Earthlings have gone home, unique on the planet! Mozzie and Neal are wise to keep you sheltered and at home here!”

 

“If the prince abducted her, Neal and Mozzie would have to go and break her out of his tall and impenetrable tower!” Sally grinned, her eyes lighting up. “Like a fairy-story!”

 

“No – we’d just jump to her rooms at midnight and jump her to Earth,” Neal shrugged a little.

 

“Oh, that is far too tame!” Sally’s face fell.

 

“And you have no assurance that I would come with you!” June put her nose in the air. “I might be very well-pleased with the royal finery and also perhaps a distinguished royal gentleman who might catch my fancy!”

 

“Or two!” Neal laughed at her.

 

“Or two,” she nodded seriously, staying in character.

 

It was another casual, happy, family gathering. Light happy conversation alternated with comfortable silences. Many of those present – Sally, Mozzie, Neal, Caerrovon and Shalla - had not for many years had many friends to share such gatherings. June had at one time, but had found herself increasingly isolated until Neal had adopted her…or visa versa! Susan had been very lonely while at Camber. Even Brak had felt trapped, sometimes: too close to the old Lord of Steel for fellow slaves to feel completely able to relax with him, though that had worn off slowly once Caerrovon had become Lord, with his informal attitudes. Joster and Merritt came from a large family and loved this informal jesting and discussion. Joster glanced over and read in his younger brother’s eyes that they were amazingly blessed to have found such a Lord as Steel and such a Master as his younger son.

 

Joster, Merritt and Brak went off in search of snacks and once delivered, Brak said he should go and be with his patient wife.

 

“She should join us!” Steel exclaimed, feeling a little guilty that he had not insisted that she be invited earlier.

 

“Indeed, Brak!” Neal nodded. “She – and Lucilla – and all their team-members – worked so very hard to make the wedding full of good and beautiful things!

         “But Lucilla, though an admired friend, is not family in the same way…”

 

“Ophera,” Brak said, seriously, “is getting the Keep back to being in perfect order after each guest leaves!”

 

“My family was so impressed, ” Shalla said. “It was a magnificent party! We all enjoyed it exceedingly!”

 

“That, Shalla, dear,” Neal answered, chuckling, “would mean more if you had not told us often how you were subjected to boring Goren gatherings and none other!”

 

Shalla showed sudden dimples. “Yes, Neal, that is true…till we all surprised Lord Betchem at the lavish Christmas party!  Imagined so many people on the whole planet I never had! Truth to tell, that gathering was more exciting than this!

         “My life has become much more enjoyable because of the activities of the sons of my betrothed!” She snuggled into the security of Lord Steel’s arms, and he hugged her tighter.

 

“I, too, am so glad I found Neal and June at the Slaver Market, and that later, thief-like, Mozzie broke in!

“But Brak – please tell Ophera to stop working so hard!” Steel said, seriously.

“If that is an order, I shall try, Caerrovon,” Brak replied, dubiously. “But for anything less than that, she will merely shrug and continue. I think she enjoys doing what she does.”

 

“I shall remember and be careful not to …” Shalla hesitated and Neal suggested, “…step on her toes…?”

 

Shalla considered the strange saying. “Yes, that is apt, I should think, Neal – I shall exert myself not to get in her way when I become Lady to my Lord.”

 

“She knows you will be the Lady over her, Lady Shalla,” Brak smiled, “as Caerrovon’s mother was, after all.”

 

“No, Brak. I know enough of you, Ophera and Caerrovon, and the atmosphere here to understand – if Ophera is willing, she will honour me and I her by working together as a team. It is not what I am used to at home – and in regular and neat lines all the Gorenmen would faint ! – but I think it is a fine system and I will do my best to fit in.

         “From what I have understood, Caerrovon’s father was the same type as most Lord Keepers, and Ophera then was much younger. Now she has seniority and station and I am young and inexperienced! She and I will find our own way of working well together.”

 

Brak smiled happily and bowed to her, to the Lord and his sons and generally to the rest of the gathering, and went towards the door. June stood and said, “Walk me to my rooms, Brak, would you? And later, Mozzie, would you take me back to New York?”

 

“Of course, dear June,” Mozzie told her. “Just send word as to when you are ready to go.”

 

“And I would love you to join us, via the easy route of jumping, Lady June, at Sea Keep when we visit it soon. The roads are open now, but you would not enjoy the ride!”

 

June nodded and courtseyed a little, and left with Brak.

 

“I am looking forward to seeing Sea Keep!” Litha told them. “I like the sea on Earth.”

 

“It is too hot for her,” Neal shrugged. “No icebergs.”

 

Litha giggled a little. “On the temperature of the water, Neal and I do not agree. I do not find the water cold when Neal says he does.”

 

“We do not have…blocks of ice?...in the sea there,” Steel frowned a little. “Well – not often. Sometimes we have a storm and the currents are changed temporarily. The fishing then is excellent!”

 

“But there are beaches? Sand to walk on by the water?” Neal asked.

 

“Indeed. We train the horses on the sand and in the shallows. It is very good for them, they love it and everyone enjoys doing that work. Sea Keep life really is like a holiday!” Steel said, thoughtfully. “When I am old, I shall retire there, leaving you two in charge here!”

 

“Or your blood-heir!” Neal told him. “The other Lord Keepers would not forgive you, else!”

 

“And we may grow old and die before you,” Mozzie said, seriously. “We have no way of knowing, since Earthlings have not had good health care till recently and no access to Chiri singing before coming to Brethsham.”

 

Steel felt Shalla giggling silently at Mozzie, and said, “I want to show both of you Sea, and of course, my lovely wife-to-be and her family. The fact that I have a country estate may sway their approval in my favour!”

 

“Oh, yes, a cottage by the sea is what is necessary to do so!” Shalla told him teasingly. “But I hope my brother will come. It is a long journey, and none of you want to let more people know you can move from one place to another yet not touch anything between.”

 

“We shall plan to visit as a family. I have visited but not as regularly as I would like, and most of the time I have taken a few men only,” Steel said determinedly. “I think Jarad is a little disappointed, perhaps even offended, that he has only just met most of you.

         “And of your brother cannot join us for security reasons or concerns of time, you will be able to tell him about it in detail, my Lady.”

 

“I will do as Mozzie and Neal have explained, and paint the picture in the brightest colours for your benefit, Caerrovon!” Shalla smiled.

 

 

 

 

It was one of many gatherings of the friends as Keep life resumed its usual pace, not always so many at once, but it was seldom that just the two conmen found themselves alone together.

 

One night, though, they enjoyed a few hours more or less as Neal had envisioned: Mozzie recounting and Neal sitting as the apprentice to the master he had once been, eyes wide and a delighted smile playing on his shapely lips, listening to the intricate and devious plots Mozzie had woven to finally acquire the little bronze lady who stood with supreme grace and lightness on the toes of one elegant foot on the table next to the bed Neal shared with Litha.

 

When the dénouement had finally been reached and Neal had expressed his boundless admiration and gratitude, and Mozzie had (rather smugly, it is true) accepted both as his just due, they sat for a long while staring at the fire and just enjoying being together.

 

“You didn’t just jump to get her?” Neal noted, after a while.

 

“No. Firstly, it is you who loves her, Neal. I appreciate her lines but, well, there are other things more valuable that I would jump to if I wished to own them!” He thought for a beat or two. “And probably will at some future date.”

 

Neal grinned.

 

“And,” Mozzie went on, “it just seems too easy to jump around, though nice in an emergency. I might have jumped out if I had found myself trapped, or time had run out, but there was no need.” He took off his plain-glass spectacles and rubbed them and replaced them before saying, “It is a pity that we were not as close to Sally before the Wars. She is magnificent with electronics, and now her skills are not required on heists. She would have been an excellent addition to our little team.”

 

“I am glad you have someone so special in your life at last, Moz,” Neal nodded. “And the electronics will return all too soon, my friend.”

 

“To her delight if not yours, mon frère.”

 

Rather on impulse, Neal decided to tell Mozzie a secret. They had shared so many secrets before, but this made Neal a little uncomfortable – and truly, he came to wish sincerely that this secret he had kept! But there was no-one else to tell. Tammy was busy on some mission for Steel, and Steel himself, who would have understood, perhaps…well, talking to one’s father, even a young father-by-adoption, about sex made Neal feel very odd!

 

He started, awkardly, “Mozzie, making love to Litha is very special….”

 

Mozzie looked alarmed. “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Neal! I have Sally, and though - ”

 

“No, no – but because – well, remember the way our father and I shared memories?”

 

“The alien Vulcan mind-meld. Yes, of course I remember.”

 

“We-ell…” Neal was _really_ regretting starting this conversation! But now Mozzie’s eyes had focussed on him like laser beams, a stare he knew of old. He wasn’t getting out of this, and though he _could_ lie to Mozzie, he could only do it convincingly when he wasn’t meeting that stare – or sometimes when he’d practised in front of a mirror a lot! “Okay, well, it’s like that. When…” his breath caught, “…when I touch her, when I run my fingers down her skin, I can feel her skin under my fingers, and I can feel my fingers on her skin.”

 

Mozzie looked a little puzzled. His glasses went flat, hiding his eyes.

 

Neal scowled, annoyed at having to try and be more specific. “It’s as though I’m me, and I’m her…I can feel every touch and movement from both perspectives. We both can.” The experience intruded strongly and his breath caught as his excellent recall produced extensive tactile memories and the light of Litha’s green eyes, too close for him to focus…his fingers catching in her curls, her hands feeling their way up his back, shaping around each muscle and into the dip of his spine…

 

Neal had ceased to observe Mozzie, being so distracted, but Mozzie’s eyes lit up as they usually only did when he devised the perfect heist – or when he saw the spoils of one. Or when he managed to tease Neal – most people were too easy to tease or fool; no challenge! He leaned forward eagerly and said, “Neal! How splendid! Something men usually can only dream of! The epitome of ecstacy! Like snails, or slugs!”

 

Neal, jerked from his romantic images by a drench of cold Mozzie-reality, exclaimed, “ ** _Mozzie!”_**

“But yes! I always thought evolution couldn’t be true, because slugs and snails have got the sex thing down pat – well, howler monkeys have a pretty good social version, too, but - ”

 

 _“What!”_  Neal felt unable to say anything else, the contrast to his pleasant musings was so great!

 

Mozzie frowned in some confusion at Neal’s short-sightedness. He enthused: “Neal! You should know – slugs and snails are hermaphrodite! The male part of each blends – they really do – with the female part of the other. There’s one large species of slug - wonderful! They hang from slime like lovers in zero gravity and twist their bodies round each other. They intertwine their penises which then fan out into a gorgeous lavender-coloured cone-like a flower. They are – !”

 

Neal shot to his feet and exclaimed in revulsion, “Slime! We didn’t – we don’t intertwine – _Mozzie!_

“I’m leaving right now! Don’t ever mention this to me again ever, and don’t tell anyone else! Ever! **_Ich!”_**

 

Mozzie watched Neal stalk off with disgusted New York strides and tilted his head a little. He ruminated on his friend’s peculiar reaction, then concluded, “He must never have seen them. It’s quite amazing and lovely.

         “And he can’t mean not to tell _Sally._ She’ll be so interested.”

 

Neal’s emotions had always been a little inexplicable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End of Chapter 6

 

Happy Christmas and a wonderful, glorious, wild break-open lovely year in 2017 to all my readers...and all I want for Christmas is a few comments! oookay...all I want from my readers is a few comments! :D


	7. The Teeth of Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Surprises on the way to the Sea

 

 

 

 

 

The next few weeks passed delightfully for the newly married couple. Neal could not have painted a more beautiful and satisfying honeymoon at his first real home!

 

He didn’t see that much of Mozzie or Sally, he wanted to leave that memory of slugs to die of old age before risking bringing it up again!

 

(Mozzie had told Sally, had even taken her to see the slugs mating, and she said all that was expected of her. If she laughed at her mate’s enthusiasm for slimy boneless hermaphrodite lovers, and his total inability to understand Neal’s revulsion to his bridal intercourse being likened in any way to these simple creatures, she never let him know about it and, as requested by her bewildered Mozzie, she never mentioned it to Neal or Litha. Sally was almost as bright as Mozzie, and a little more sensitive to the needs of others!)

 

Neal had planned a few get-aways to his birth planet, though he wanted most memories to be of this Keep. Wishing to show off to his new bride, he had kept back some surprises for her: they spent a glorious hour making love in the Blue Grotto; they walked along a variety of the whitest beaches…his only problem being that Litha collected shells, pretty pebbles and scraps of seaweed that he had to carry while she put back in the water anything that seemed stranded – and then she laughed at him, juggling – he showed her his favourite pieces, in museums, galleries and a few hanging in private residences…sometimes even with the owners’ permission, he was well-known in the Earth’s Art world, now. He loved watching her eyes as she suddenly understood why that shine on a floor, that clasping of hands, that particular colour combination, that delicate brush-work had caught his sophisticated admiration.  She was, after all, a Laffay, and well-schooled in many artistic pursuits. She merely lacked his experience and range. They rode earth horses and visited a butterfly farm, Kew Gardens and an ostrich ranch. They dined with June and Mozzie and Sally. And every night they made that glorious love that flowed both ways, and became more and more skilled at using their shared ability to extend and enhance their ecstasy.

 

After each bounce to Earth, they returned to the solid, safe, stone-walled Keep and the warmth of their Lord’s heart and their extended Steel family. Neal was suddenly aware that his delicate love affair with death had ended. He was now scared to die even if, as June insisted, he’d go to Heaven. He was sure it couldn’t touch the life he’d been given. Sometimes, walking down the corridors, he’d just stop and let himself be conscious of how amazing these blessing were that had come together for him. Fear would follow, a sharp thrust:

 

_I’m not worthy! I did bad things! Surely Somebody will realise that and take it all away?_

 

Litha looked deep into his eyes and knew. She didn’t tell him she realised, but she told everyone who mattered to him: Mozzie and Sally, Caerrovon Steel and June. After all, he would expect her to be his champion, and she always would be.  She needed him to hear it from others.

 

They all gathered and did an intervention, in Mozzie’s words. They told him how much he meant to them and that anything good that happened to him was, if anything, less than he deserved!

 

Mozzie let everyone else talk first. Neal wasn’t expecting his weird friend Moz to say very much in this situation, other than some humorously incongruous or even dissonant anecdote that left him struggling between annoyance at Moz’s lack of empathy and simultaneously amused that any Earthling had a brain that worked the way his did! – any human in the **_universe_** had a brain that worked the way his did!

 

Neal knew all these truly amazing people loved him and would say positive things to him: June, with her deep and wise faith helped by explaining to him that the Great Creator loved everyone, regardless of their failings and no matter their past. In His eyes and to His standard, they were all so far from perfect that the differences between their actions wasn’t important: He had saved them all regardless, He loved them all, regardless. She recounted the parable of the prodigal son: the boy had done everything wrong, broken many laws, should have been stoned to death but was still welcomed with open arms.

 

Steel said nothing, looked deep into those blue eyes and hugged him and that helped a lot! If anyone this side of Heaven represented the Great Creator of June’s Biblical story, to Neal, Steel was he.

 

Sally told him, in true bald and British fashion, that he was being an idiot and to stop it, and that helped, too.

 

When Neal looked over at Mozzie, he truly expected the shorter man to shrug and say very little. Instead, Mozzie stopped doodling on the pad in front of him and pointed at the seat next to him and Neal, intrigued, went and sat there. Mozzie took a deep breath and said, pensively, in English, “Perceptions…how wrong they often are.”

 

Neal’s eyebrows went up a little.

 

“We have faith…. Now _June’s_ faith is based on something other than the physical or the intellectual or the emotional - and she is sure of her sources, and that’s one kind of faith. More reliable. But as a general thing, people have faith in things because of experiences.”

 

“Moz…?”

 

“Shh, Neal, I’m talking, and it’s important.”

 

Neal shut up and Moz went on, “It’s worse for those of us who rely on our abilities a great deal. I rely on my intellect and my eidetic memory. You rely on your instincts, especially social instincts, and your incredible visual skills. And your looks – don’t give me that shy downward glance like Princess Di! It is fake! You know your skills and tools, and use what you have exceptionally well. They have usually _served_ us well. We have _survived_ on them. You came to trust them more and more.

         “But when they fail us, we have no way of knowing, do we? - when a situation comes around that doesn’t fit.” Mozzie mused another moment and Neal waited. He did know that trying to hurry Moz in this mood would be pointless. The rest watched with interest. Moz looked up at Neal. “Like trying to flirt with Diana. Didn’t connect. You _know_ this…eye-witness accounts are notoriously unreliable. Cross-racial identifications are worse! (Which is interesting because many crimes are committed within the perpetrator’s own racial group – serial murders for example. Instinct, programming of some kind of course, but if they thought it out they would deliberately lower the chances of being caught by killing another racial group. Fascinating.)

         “People see what they want to see, often, what they expect to see. Patterns in clouds and on toast…That’s how our brains tend to work, they call it (because They always have to have labels!)  apophenia -  it’s why _conspiracies_ work!

“But I digress…you know, from experience, that speeding fan-blades or propellers are invisible. You know that images seen through water are distorted. You know that a wheel can look as though it’s travelling in the reverse direction. A train speeding out of an old movie made you duck even though you were aware that it was light on a screen and nothing more. Tromp l’eoile in every direction!

         “June will tell you that she is healed, even when she is in pain. That’s her _faith_. She is not looking at the physical world, but at her faith-world. That is more true. It overrides the so-called real world and for someone with that faith, overcomes and then becomes the observable facts, her real experience.

         “You thought you couldn’t do original work. Then you changed your internal image and developed faith that you could. The world – all worlds! – thank Lord-Keeper Caerrovon Steel.

         “This is just the same. There are times when we must accept that our faith is in incorrect ‘facts’. They _seem_ like facts to us. A man blows hard on a dog-whistle, and we say no sound is emitted. Yet Rover leaps up and runs to him. We trust our vision, yet we know we see a tiny portion of the electromagnetic spectrum, hear a small range of frequencies of sound and so on. We trust, as it were, blindly. We do not even know that we both see the same colour when we look a the grass, or taste the same flavour when we eat a fruit. We cannot explain, for we have not the vocabulary that exists outside our own experience!

         “Now you must learn _not_ to trust things that are not true! That is what June would call a leap of faith…but faith in what is true. You are special, and worthy of our love and our trust and our loyalty. You have to refuse anything in your thinking and feeling that goes against that, because it is false. Like the fan blades, Neal. You can’t see them, but you hopefully continue to keep your hands out of the way. It’s the same!”

 

June smiled broadly at Mozzie. How clear he could make things – sometimes!

 

Neal thought deeply, then looked between Mozzie and June. “But – death. That’s God’s domain, isn’t it? I don’t want to die anymore. I – I thought that most of what I wanted was on the other side of death, that here I was a burden to you, to June…” he glanced over, anxiously, then looked back. “How do I know He won’t…perhaps He’s heard my thoughts, before…?”

 

Before June could answer, Mozzie laughed a little. “That’s the easy one, Neal! If you are speaking of June’s ‘Great Creator’, He’s love, He loves you, always has. Like the Prodigal’s son’s father! And if all of that is correct, He is not sitting there waiting to trick you, to catch you out! And, though it isn’t perhaps perfect, if you _did_ die…if you had fallen out of one of those countless high windows with uncounted riches stolen from a highly rich count clutched under your jacket…well, it would be a short time till we were with you, since eternity is a great deal longer than our lifetimes! Relatively, Einstein would have said!”

 

“You believe in life after death?” Neal demanded. “Even you?”

 

“Especially me! Second Law of Thermodynamics…every state tends towards greater entropy…disorder,” he added for Steel’s benefit, “unless energy is applied. Life… _hugely_ ordered. DNA and inter-related protein suites of cells are just one – though a wonderfully elegant and complicated - example. Therefore, energy is being continuously applied…till death, when the body starts returning to a state of disorder rapidly. It didn’t happen with you and the flowers, and I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking very clearly, or I’d have been aware of the greater forces at work!

         “And since no energy can be created or destroyed – the First Law of Thermodynamics! - we live on…our essence, our energy, whatever you like to call it. It either returns to a reservoir from which it came – God, we might call it – or remains in a similar form to pre-death, just without the burden of the body. From what you experienced, probably the latter, but the situation was…unusual.” Mozzie paused. “Also, so very many ghost stories…surely a small percentage must have some basis in fact?”

 

There was a silence, though Sally wanted to chuckle again! Then she asked, suddenly, “What is the Third Law? I have forgotten.”

 

“At zero degrees Kelvin there is no entropy,” Mozzie supplied, and she nodded. “It doesn’t come into play very often!”

 

“So what you’re saying…?” Neal asked, thoughtfully.

 

“Einstein again,” Mozzie grinned at him, “ ‘For us believing physicists the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion’, remember. And since the Chiri can bend the time-space continuum, I think we can take his word for that!                                   “Einstein was brilliant in some ways and surprisingly foolish in many others, you know. But that’s not important right now. Most of our long-held beliefs are based on shifting sand, shall we say.”

 

“False faith. Belief in false ‘truth’s’. Change the things I have faith in,” Neal mused almost to himself. Then his face cleared. “Okay. That makes perfect sense, Mozzie!”

 

Litha breathed a sigh of relief, Neal stood up, smiled around and said, “Thank you! Love you all!”, took his wife’s hand and left. She thankfully waved her fingers at the family over her shoulder.

 

Those who had lived through Caffrey-angst with requisite long-suffering looked at each other and shrugged, deciding that married life really did suit their boy!

 

Sally leaned across and whispered in Mozzie’s ear, “Care to jump to a few romantic castles in the U.K. and see if, late at night, we see a ghost or two? Gather evidence one way or the other?”

 

Mozzie wrote on his notepad: WOULD WE NOTICE THEM?

 

 

 

There were other things that puzzled Neal a little. He had always loved Venice: the lavishly plush hotels, the rough warm-coloured plaster, the art-work. He had sauntered there, wearing false identities, enjoying the superlative luxury accommodation, food, wine, and many types of personal service while he conned the finances to cover the expenses! Yet now…

 

He hadn’t been back for any length of time since he’d fled from Peter Burke’s long shiny-black-sleeved arm, years before Peter had trapped him in New York. Was that it…this sense of unease? Why had he been more relaxed there, in imminent danger of discovery and capture, when now his skin didn’t seem to fit, and only when he returned to the relatively austere world of Steel where he lit fires in other’s rooms as well as his own and exercised horses and sometimes scrubbed floors and did hard menial labour, did he relax?

 

“Was that ever home?” Litha asked, and he smiled.

 

“I wanted it to be, perhaps.” Then he felt that twinge of that part of him that existed where other human’s usually housed a conscience. “No, that isn’t true. I _do_ enjoy the art and the luxury to experience for a time, but you’re right. It could never have been home. I would hate the life. How odd!”

 

“Odd?”

 

“Odd that I always thought I wanted a whale, a big fish, a large cash reward for my efforts so I could choose a life of luxury, when I didn’t want it.”

 

“Silly,” she mocked, gently. “What you are calling luxury – silk sheets and marbley – marble? – floors, and strange foods – luxury that is not, after all. To live that way by choice is the luxury: The choice to eat precisely what you wish, what makes you feel good, whether it is simple stew or those dishes you remember from your days of using other people’s money to purchase these things. The choice to live without working for money, as you do now, that is a luxury that is incredible to most humans on your world.

         “You and I, my Neal, can locate a tree without a centre and make a home there and no-one can find us. We are not slaves to other people, to money, we are not slaves in any way. That is what I think you have always been looking for: true luxury. Choices.”

 

Neal blinked, then scooped her up and hugged her tight and said, “I have been so blessed to be surrounded by such brilliant and kind people! Now that, too, my darling girl, is a luxury I have not experienced before to this degree. June was always special, but at first I think she backed off and wanted not to intrude upon my privacy. She knew about con men and their secrets.”

 

“And Mozzie?” she giggled, snuggling into his arms.

 

“Mozzie was always brilliant, but it was never to my knowledge used in social interactions except to con others, and that was never his strong suite. One of the very few reasons he needed me, to be honest. I can only assume that being close to Sally – who was a social outcast and a ‘techno-hermit’…only interacting with advanced machines, you know? – seems to have done him good, he has now accessed inner wisdom I was unaware he possessed, shall we say?”

 

“That is what love is supposed to do,” she nodded, happily. “It makes each better than they were.”

 

The rest of the interaction was less verbal, other than sounds that would certainly have been unintelligible to anyone else. Suffice to say Neal ceased to be concerned with Venice!

 

 

When Shalla went to visit her Keep because one of her friends had given birth, Neal spent time with his Lord and told him how he’d changed. As usual, the two enjoyed their time together and found each other’s company restful and full of love.

 

“We are going to Sea Keep as soon as Shalla returns, whether her family can join us or not. I do not expect it: we have spent generations causing others to think of the journey as long and extremely dangerous, and that is partly true. It would be foolish to risk their Lord Keeper for something so frivolous. It is not as though the marriage covenant relies upon it.”

 

“My Lord Keeper seems unafraid of the journey,” Neal smiled from the depths of his end of the sofa.

 

“I have travelled it often. My father did not after his brother had died, for fear of being lost and leaving a small child – me – as his only heir, but I think we have made it safer, and though I never refrained from making the trip, I do now have heirs!”

 

“I seriously think you should wed and bed your betrothed as soon as possible, my Lord! The more I think of Mozzie on the seat of power here, the more I think the other Lord Keepers might start hoarding weapons. Might have already, now I think of it!”

 

“You forget how much we owe both of you, and though Betchem did feel…um…uneasy at first, Mozzie single-handedly healed the rift he – Betchem – had caused with me, and Betchem is hot-headed but he remembers and is very loyal. None of the other Seven would dare go against him, Betchem is so exceedingly powerful.”

 

“I shudder to think I risked forever alienating him, but I _did_ think he’d be pleased.” Neal frowned slightly, still puzzled.

 

“He is, now! I hear word that he has visited Goren since, and that Lord and Lady Goren are planning a rather extended visit to Betchem. They are taking a small tree as a gift, it grows not in Betchem’s borders at this time, and has many uses.”

 

“Clever gift!

         “How do you know these things, my Lord?”

 

“My grandfather had a saying…it is written in one of the books he left to me, _The Designs of the Creator_ , a very erudite book that his father wrote, by-the-by…that the smaller the force-at-arms, the better both the wisdom and the subtlety of the leader would have to be.”

 

“Your own intelligence network!” Neal grinned. “The difference between the battle-axe of Betchem and the slender needle-point dagger of Steel?”

 

“Something of that nature, indeed!”

 

They sat in silence, smiling at their thoughts and sipping at tea and wine respectively. Then Neal set his glass down and said, “I should visit Sunder again. They were so good to me, and I would like to see the whole fog system ready for the summer…but there are so _many_ things I would like to do, now! So many places to see and to share with Litha, now.”

 

“You do not visit Camber often,” remarked his Lord.

 

Neal shrugged a little. “I love Lord Camber, but the whole atmosphere of Camber Keep itself seems …stifling? Like falling into a huge silo of flour!”

 

“Yes, I can see that you would find it so. I did, as a child, but Lord Camber is a good friend. And Shalla and I plan to cement our vows and the Seven Lords will be in attendance, so you need not visit them, Neal. You are just wed, you should enjoy this time with Litha!”

 

“Oh, we are enjoying it, but now that I am free to go anywhere on two planets, and especially as I was incarcerated for years on Earth and  visit _anywhere_ I could not, I would love to take her to so many places…! _And_  I want to be here, and teach the children and be with you….”

 

Lord Steel smiled into the sparkling blue eyes. “I am so glad you feel that way and have those options, Neal.”

 

Neal sobered. “Which you do not, my Lord, as I know. Hurry and marry, my Lord – I do want to take you to Earth and though we have never encountered a problem with jumping, I would not risk the future of your precious bloodline.”

 

Steel pursed his lips a little. “From something Mozzie said, there are few – er – modern Earthlings who would understand as you seem to do, the importance of family, of birth.”

 

“Perhaps not before The Alien Wars, not in my country. More now, I think. But _you_ are precious to me, too, not merely your sons and daughters.”

 

“I have had to sit back and have faith that you will always return, you know! That no choice or ill-chance might take you, or Mozzie, from me.”

 

“I am truly sorry about that, my Lord. Mozzie and I have lived with danger for so many of our years that we take not much account of it, as we have lived without anyone being overly concerned over our continued existence, my Lord!”

 

“Worry not! I was so hedged about by tutors and guards and my father’s restrictions I would be extremely hesitant to subject you both to that unless the situation was dire!”

 

 

 

It wasn’t long afterwards that everything fell in line for the proposed visit to Sea Keep. Usually the Lord took a small retinue and left with little preparation and in darkness to avoid alerting anyone to his trip, but this time there were many riders and pack animals.

 

“We take not a carriage?” Mozzie asked, surprised. “I thought the women might like to rest within, Lord, if they tire.

“Or me,” he added.

 

“The road does not lend itself to carriages, Master Mozzie!” Merritt told him, obviously excited about the visit to the sea-side.

 

“Mozzie, Merritt!” Mozzie insisted, thinking that it would be a long and tiring ride!

 

“Not with Leran and Klenalth and Brak within easy earshot, Master Mozzie, I am sorry!” Merritt hissed in his ear and went on about his

business.

 

Neal watched, amused, as Caerrovon Steel, Lord of a pivotal and beautiful Keep, terror of cruel Slavers everywhere, bounced in the saddle of his huge grey stallion and for all intents and purposes looked like any small boy on the verge of a holiday at the beach! Des and Dam were romping around the hoofs of his steed like enthusiastic and happy black bears, huge and fluffy! They were feeling the excitement of the small crowd.  Neal was reminded of a Norman Rockwell painting!

 

_That’s true!_  he thought, a little surprised. _With the up-close threats of violence of the society (though I have seen little of it) , with the slavery, with the hard and sometimes tedious work, it is all relatively wholesome! There are wars – Rockwell painted the home-fire sides of war. Here there is slavery, and though slavery was outlawed in the United States, there was still a great deal of inequality which could be equated to slavery. Women and children tend to be safe walking the streets of any Keep city I know, and now even the abuse of slaves is lessening greatly. There are not the many electronic toys and gadgets, there is much more emphasis on family and family values than there was on Earth before the Alien Wars – it is a sort of feudal ‘fifty’s society that Rockwell could have appreciated. People on earth are happier now, after the Wars, and people are happier here than back on Earth before the Wars. I wonder where we lost our way! Or **was** it only idyllic in paintings?_

Meanwhile, Shalla was seated quietly on her narrow-shouldered mare, looking a little apprehensive. Neal touched the sides of his steed and moved over beside her. “You are comfortable riding so far, my Lady Shalla?”

 

She smiled her sweet smile. “Ignore my jitters, Neal! Only – I have heard that Steel is a crafty Keep, impossible to take by force or subtlety, protected by beings that are not human, forces that exist no-where else! I know it is foolish, but those are the stories told to children. I know my Lord is a good, honest man, I have met most people living within his strong, honest stone walls – but those stories gave me nightmares that now appear behind my eyes, despite my best efforts. Is it not ridiculous?”

 

“Yes, it is totally ridiculous! However, it is the lot of all humans, I think, to create goblins for ourselves that outlive even our heroes! Of course, Lord Steel _is_ certainly less conservative than other Lord-Keepers in many regards: he has more Earthlings and has more to do with the Chiri than others, and though we are all human, we are strange to the majority of Brethsham.”

 

“But such a good man,” she said, smiling as he leaned down to pet his dogs.

 

“Best I have ever met,” Neal said, shortly and sincerely.

 

“And not in himself that outrageous!”

 

“Perhaps he might have been, had his father not been as…as…”

 

“Yes, he has shared his stories with me. It is surprising that he is as open and soft-hearted and generous as he is. Some men might have become bitter and hard as his steel sword and stone walls as a reaction.”

 

“Perhaps we shall meet again the reason when we get to Sea Keep! For Jarad appears a light and resilient youth in those stories of our Lord’s youth.”

 

She smiled and nodded, and Litha called him to help with Mozzie’s tack, so he nodded a salute and backed away.

The little cavalcade started off along dirt roadways through gloomy shade of the dark green very large trees that always leant a solid-looking backdrop to panoramic vistas of Steel Castle as seen from the roads heading north and north-east.

 

“There are wild pig-like animals living in here,” Mozzie said, a little warily. “Dangerous, but supposedly good eating.”

 

“You don’t have any allergies to anything here,” Neal noted.

 

“Yes, well, I don’t need as many excuses here,” Mozzie replied with a slight grin.

 

Neal gave him an _‘I’m glad you finally admitted it’_ sideways look that Mozzie ignored.

 

It was quite cold, damp and definitely murky under the oppressive forest trees; conversations quieted to silence. The unease was increased by the glimpses caught out of the corner of their eyes of somethings – Neal was reminded of the way deer move – that leapt away further into the dark shade on becoming aware of the cavalcade. At this time of year there was very little noise in the thick forests, but Neal wondered what those same trees sounded like when the winder winds blew! The riders were glad when they could see bright sunshine ahead, and unconsciously increased the speed of the horses. They rode out onto a smooth rock, squinting a little in the brilliance, and came to a complete halt, the warmth of the sun welcome on their shoulders.

 

Neal gasped. The road ahead looped lazily before apparently squeezing between pointed stone guardians and disappeared between rocky outcrops, headed for huge, seemingly barren stone mountains that were so steep, so hard, so generally hostile that no vegetation could take root. The whole scene was monochromatic: a light brown where the sun caught the face of the rock, almost black where the rocks cast shadows. Every part of the mountains they could see was sharp, steep and unforgiving.

 

“That is a vision of inhospitality!” Neal murmured. “The Teeth of the World!”

 

“Yes, is it not?” Lord Steel nodded happily. “Most are not foolish enough to venture into the mountain fastnesses, and many who dare them are vanquished, ground small by those Steel teeth!”

 

“Mmm,” Mozzie murmured.

 

“Oh, we are quite safe,” Leran noted. “For the very reason that so few risk this path. The trees behind us are said to harbour all manner of evil beings in their deep shade and the mountains are themselves deadly to strangers for a variety of reasons.”

 

“But surely some desperadoes might be willing to learn the secrets of the mountains and set upon unsuspecting travellers such as ourselves?” Mozzie queried.

 

“We harbour secrets of our own, Mozzie,” Steel said, wriggling his shoulders just as Neal did when he was excited and being sneaky! “as you will see for yourself!” Sally wondered whether the Lord had picked up the tell from his son!

 

Mozzie whispered to Neal, “I think I should let you explore; you love adventure. Then you could come and get me and Sal and we could jump.”

 

“Our Lord says we can jump later, but just this once he has asked that we see the trail that guards Sea Keep, Moz.”

 

“This whole fealty thing leaves something to be desired…” muttered his friend, but nothing more was said about turning back.

 

“These are enormous mountains, and seem to be very young!” Neal mentioned to Steel. “They have these sharp peaks! Do you have earthquakes? Is it an…active geological zone?”

 

Steel’s eyebrows raised. Neal explained a little: “Mountains like these – that look like these – on Earth are caused by plates …um…oh, dear, never mind.”

 

“I will show you what he means, Caerrovon, we know not the terminology here,” Mozzie said. “But do tell us, as we enter these sharp, jagged and dangerous mountains, do they shake and tremble?”

 

“There are legends that tell of such things, that the very mountains themselves will shrug off any enemy of Steel and throw them into the void,” his Lord told him. “I myself have never experienced that, of course!”

 

“This gets better,” Mozzie mumbled.

 

Steel, overhearing because the earbugs were used to conveying soft words when Moz and Neal wished to remain hidden, nodded enthusiastically, and answered, “You speak the truth, my son! We have never had to defend Sea Keep nor Steel from this direction. Are we not blessed?”

 

Neal had to smile. He had never seen Lord Steel quite this giddy. _I suppose he doesn’t get away often, away from the responsibility and ongoing Keep business, unless it is to the House, which is hardly restful._  Neal felt a twinge of guilt. _We should have taken on more, we are the heirs!_

The other rider that was more ebullient than usual was Tamlin. She had won a bet with Shiral, who had often ridden with Steel – or perhaps, Neal considered, she had let Tammy win so that she could take her family. Diana and Theo were also along for the ride. Tammy was speaking to Mozzie and Sally, more communicative than usual! Theo was reading a book! Yet Neal knew he’d remember every detail of the ride, as well as what was in the book.

Litha drew up beside Neal and took his hand. She smiled gently at him and whispered, “You showed me the great dunes in Southern Africa, and those strange castle-rock formations in your country: they were so beautiful, but less deadly-looking than the road ahead, I believe!”

 

“I admit, unless I was being chased by a fearsome force and had no other option, I would avoid these mountains if I had not a guide! They stretch far to each side of us, also!”

 

It soon became obvious that riding even two abreast was not going to be possible as they entered the first barricades of stone! The narrow, tortuous path wound round tall peaks rising sharply against the sky, at first at a gentle gradient but soon beginning to rise more steeply.

 

_Wow!_  Neal thought, glancing ahead and behind his horse, _I might be alone in all the world!_

 It was true: at times the path was so serpentine that those ahead or behind were out of view completely. There was little noise, but the small sounds made by such a number of horses and riders bounced off the unyielding rock faces, back and forth, making a strange whispering sound that was certainly spooky! Mozzie would have explained that the voices he thought he could hear were the human brain trying desperately to find patterns in  what was, essentially, white noise!

 

_This would be so easy to defend!_  Mozzie thought. _I wish any of my safehouses on Earth had been so well protected!_

After what seemed like days but was perhaps six candlemarks, the path opened up before Neal and he gladly joined Leran, Steel and Shalla and many others on a large, flat area. They were facing what appeared to be a solid almost flat vertical face, and Neal frowned a little – and then there appeared with such silence that it appeared a magic act, several dozen warriors, all dressed to be camouflaged against the rocks, their heads wound with cloth. Neal noticed that of the company, Steel alone did not react in any way.

 

_He knew they were coming!_

The fearsome expressions of the newcomers melted into welcoming smiles as they gave little head-bows to Lord Steel. A tall woman stepped forward and spoke so softly to Steel that Neal, a little way behind, did not hear. Then she turned a little and gestured and Tamlin rode forward and they touched the backs of their right hands, a gentle stroke. Theo, meanwhile, had inadvertently pulled on the reins of his horse and it obediently backed, so that he came alongside Neal, with Mozzie on his other side.

 

“Careful, there, Teddy!” Mozzie warned in English. “Watch where you’re going, young one!”

 

“I didn’t hear them coming!” Theo hissed. “I can hear _everyone!”_

 

Litha, realising that this was like suddenly losing his sight, said, “They are Tassin, Theo, are they not?”

 

“Ye-es! Tassin – but I am half Tassin, my mother is Tassin, as is Shiral! I am always aware of them!”

 

Several of the Tassin force glanced over at him, and Tammy turned and said, “They have trained themselves to be better than even your abilities, son, that is all!”

 

The Tassin leader made a gesture and her people all moved off to the right, and Steel calmly followed them. The road curled like a cat around a huge outcropping of rock and on the other side of it, the right side of the road fell away…far away. It was replaced with a dizzying vista of enormous rock faces and sharp edges, slicing one against the other into the distance. Between those and their mountain was an abyss the bottom of which Neal could not see without going closer to the edge.

 

“That declivity is thousands of feet deep…many thousands!” Mozzie hissed behind him.

 

Neal cleared his throat. “Now there’s a place for a BASE jump!”

 

“You wouldn’t find your hat if you tried it!” Mozzie snorted.

 

“Come!” Steel encouraged them and they dragged their awed gaze from the view and the danger, and saw that to their left was a low overhang and a black cave behind it. On one side it was just tall enough for the horses to enter, so all of those who had reached the area, dismounted and followed Steel, who relinquished his stallion to a Tassin – it was hard to tell the men from the women, they were all tall, and dressed alike and their headgear made identification difficult. As Neal handed his steed to the Tassin who approached he tried to get a good look at the face and eyes, but they were turned down and away.

 

They entered a huge expanse with a  roof that curved upwards, only rough patches catching the light from many fires that burned round the edge of an area set with furs and short tables. Behind them the Tassin drew a large cloth – probably a patchwork of leather – over the cave opening to keep the wind out.

 

Neal, Litha, Mozzie and Sally, Lord Steel and Shalla and Tamlin, Diana and Theo ended up round one short-legged table. The Tassin, while being available to serve their Lord, tended to remain further back, nearer the horses, unless actually bringing wine, water and food.

 

“Now, _Dad,_ ” started Neal, challengingly, “what is this Tassin Special Force that you have secretly up here in the mountains and why have we heard nothing of it?”

 

Mozzie glanced up from selecting a wine from the choices on offer, a small smile dancing on his lips. Neal had seldom played with people in authority over him…well, he’d played with them as a cat with a mouse, but never inviting a smile, a shared amusement!

 

Steel chuckled mischievously, but sobered. “You know Shiral and Tamlin – and other Tassin at other of our Keeps, invaluable as communicators at distance. But they are the exceptions. Most Tassin find being with non-Tassin almost unbearable for any length of time. The mental noise, I am told, is unbearable. They cannot screen it out as the Laffay can emotions.”

 

“I can sympathise”, Mozzie interjected with real feeling. “There were times when I was forced…well, when the possible results seemed worth the torture…when I was subjected to rooms full of noise that they called music, full of injurious smoke, full of jostling unsanitary people of law intelligence…” He shuddered.

 

“Shh!” Neal told him. “You got the Damien Hirst collection from that torture, did you not?”

 

“I did, and off-loaded it at just the right time. Stupid art world!” Mozzie literally sneered.

 

“Be that as it may…” Neal sighed and turned back to Steel. “But how did they end up here?”

 

“I searched them out and offered them sanctuary. They were suffering and even our Chiri could not help without…blinding them, in effect. Their home planet had been made uninhabitable, they could not return. However, in its original state it bears similarities to this, I was told, and here they can have a refuge from the ill-disciplined mental cacophony of the other Brethshamen.”

 

“And…” encouraged Neal.

 

“Well, they act as _very_ effective warriors, scouts and – er- spies? In this region. It seems a win-win.”

 

A Tassin had come over and she sat smoothly, her back straight. Steel bowed his head to her, and smiled and she returned the greeting, even managing a smile of her own. “It is well, Idrisil, with your people?” Steel asked.

 

“It is well, Lord Steel,” she answered. It seemed she would rise and leave, but Litha gently asked, “Sister, I can sympathise with your people’s need for seclusion. But surely this mountain fastness is hard and uncomfortable? Would you not prefer somewhere more moderate? I am quite sure Lord Steel would gladly provide you with such.”

 

The tall woman turned dark eyes on Litha and shook her head a fraction. “No, Litha, we are comfortable and happy here. Do not be concerned. We have built for ourselves a home, with the Lord’s permission.”

 

Before Litha could speak again, the tall slender woman rose in a fluid movement and walked with long, easy strides to join the other Tassin. Neal noted that they were all of these were very tall, some of the men were taller than Joster by a significant amount, with broad shoulders, but otherwise lean and fit.

 

“I would not keep them here, or even encourage them to be here if they were not happy,” the Lord gently chided Litha.

 

She nodded. “And you would know, would you not, my Lord? But – it seems so desolate!”

 

Another Tassin, bringing round more wine and ale, answered her. “It does seem so to visitors, sister. Many humans like green and trees…and that is good, for they do not challenge us! Here, where it is very hot and exceedingly cold, we can be silent and safe. The Lord,” she nodded towards him, “has been very good to us.”

 

  
“His epithet,” Neal grinned to himself.

 

“But – you do not feel the heat, the cold?” asked Diana, obviously disturbed.

 

“Not as much as other species, apparently. We have adapted many things to suit our needs, and we are content.”

 

Mozzie leaned forward. “Is it very cold in the winter? Is it bare rock, as now? I cannot imagine snow clinging to this rock, it is so steep and almost smooth in many places.”

 

Steel felt that the young Tassin girl was a little uncomfortable talking so much, and said, “Snow that is at all dry slides off, you are correct, Mozzie. But wet snow sticks and then another layer adheres. Worse, when the rocks are cold and it rains, the ice sticks and builds up, sometimes blown by the wind into strange, violent shapes, like horizontal icicles! It is most amazing, especially if the sun shines through that ice! Quite lovely – and most dangerous!”

 

The Tassin was nodding in agreement, her eyes shining, and the Lord continued, glancing at her. “These clever people navigate on the paths that are icy, some ice that cannot be seen but that is like glass!”

 

“With those terrible drop-offs right next to the path?!” Diana exclaimed. “You are brave indeed.”

 

“Some of the animals,” she ventured, determinedly ignoring her wish to retreat, “have fur that is hollow, and very insulating. In addition, the hair shafts have small holes that act like…like…”

 

“Suction-cups?” Mozzie suggested in English, and she nodded gratefully.

 

“They have thick fur on their feet – the horses that live here, the dogs, like the Lord’s, various smaller animals. We collect the fur and make …shoes for the feet of those, like us, who have not such fur.”

 

“And the heat?” Neal asked.

 

“We have the caves, and they are cool even when it is very hot.”

 

“And they are natural?” Mozzie asked.”

 

“Some,” she nodded. “But our duties are often light, we mine further tunnels, enlarge caves…as our people did on our home planet.”

 

The girl then left them, her shoulders relaxing as she walked.

 

“They speak – as do you, my Lord,” commented Sally, “as though this is their little kingdom. Is that not…dangerous for you, that they are so well adapted?”

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Shalla dipped her head and smiled as she said this, “could they not decide to discontinue their protection and indeed, impeded your progress through this treacherous pass to Sea?”

 

Steel put his head on one side a little. “I read nothing of that in them. We have always worked …what did you call it, Mozzie? _Symbiotically?_...and if they like to treat this as their own fiefdom, it hurts me not. They have lost their planet after all! I am quite willing to treat them with the utmost respect. They have never treated me with anything less.”

 

“And now,” Mozzie said, between sips of a cognac-like drink that was smooth and delicious, making him as contented as a cat on a warm hearth on a cold night, “we can jump, so their aid, though useful will never be imperative again.”

 

“As long as we have strange Earthlings with us,” Shalla pointed out.

 

Mozzie thought for a good few minutes. The rest were used to waiting for him. Then he remarked, “See us leaving, I can not. And we can teach anyone who wishes to learn!”

 

Diana turned to Tammy and said, “So you can stand great heat, and great cold, as can your kin?”

 

Tammy nodded. “Yes. But I was one of the few able to learn to quiet the mental noise, and have come to value other human interactions, and I felt useful to the Great Lord Steel, and wanted to repay him for his kindness to my people. So I live at Steel.” Her face widened in a grin. “Of course, Diana, there are now  many more reasons than gratitude to remain. I will always be Tassin, but you and Theo – the Lord and his heirs and their women – you are my real family now.”

 

“I am glad!” Diana said, her eyebrows rising. “I do not think I would feel comfortable in these mountains, with these…um…expressionless people. No offence, Dear, I know they hear each other – but I do not.

         “Why did you never tell me of all this?”

 

“It is a Keep Secret,” Tammy said. “And,” she paused and added, “I didn’t think it all that important.”

 

Meanwhile, Neal had been thinking and said, “Tammy! You and Shiral – _that’s_ why our Lord was so at ease with us! When we first came: June, Peter and I, you two brought food and calmly listened to our thoughts, didn’t you?” Neal looked accusingly from Steel to Tammy.

 

Steel chuckled. “I used to have to use my limited empathy and also just wait patiently for people to reveal more about themselves. It was a great waste of time. I was able to dispense with guards and safety precautions and get to know you, make you feel at home. I often wish to take one of my consultant mind-readers to the Slave Floors, but…”

 

“…but the mental screaming and grieving is too much even for Shiral, who is very good at shielding herself,” Tammy said, sadly. “I became physically ill.”

 

Diana was looking horrified. Tammy squeezed her hand and said, “Darling, do you mind that I know your thoughts when I wish? All I saw was a woman I could love – strong, determined, exceedingly clever and loyal.”

 

“She is all those things!” Mozzie nodded. “The only Suit worth the time of day.”

 

Diana glared and then her face softened to a smile. “We came a long way together, did we not, Mozzie? I thought at first you were named for the insect, you irritated me so. But that is as much a façade as your non-descript outer appearance, calculated to deflect close inspection.”

 

Mozzie shrugged non-committally and drank some more wine.

 

After they had all eaten and drunk as much as they wanted, the Tassin offered bowls of water and showed them where the ablution facilities were. Neal said to Litha, “If it were not for the Laffay’s development of all sorts of useful bugs, these sewage disposal units would be far less efficient and _much_ less pleasant!”

 

Litha nodded, happily, then made a face. “But Neal, I am tired! That ride: long, uphill and dangerous!”

 

“We will sleep well tonight.”

 

When they returned, there were soft and fluffy bedding at each place for each of them. Feeling as though he couldn’t keep his eyes open, Neal snuggled into the thick furs with Litha, cuddled up and fell asleep. His last thought was that he couldn’t even contemplate making love to Litha, and since the communal sleeping area made that awkward, it was nice to be so tired in this situation that it was out of the question!

 

_And it will be so much fun when we can…_

 

 

 


End file.
